Blind Revenge
by the lurker
Summary: A bioterrorist organization that Oscar and Jaime thwarted more than a year ago has resurfaced and this time, they want more than just a usable weapon.
1. Chapter One

THE BIONIC WOMAN  
"Blind Revenge"  
  
She stepped out of her OSI apartment building and the smell of burning wood tickled her nose. The first night of the year that was cold enough for fireplaces to be lit, and smoke was rising from every chimney on the block. It was an aroma she adored, and one of the reasons she loved late autumn in Washington D.C. Still, she missed Ojai. Russ had said it was only going to be two weeks, and it had already been three. She recognized a stall when she saw one. Oscar had been jittery and on edge when she had interacted with him the entire time she'd been there; and most of her time had been spent at the Director's Office, in an almost assistant capacity to him. It's not that she minded helping him, but she felt as if she was doing Callahan's job most of the time, and apologizing to her friend for it. She had asked for explanations from Russ and Oscar, but she met with nothing but excuses and obstructions. Jaime had no more idea why she was there now, than she did three weeks ago. But she knew damned well where she could get some answers.  
  
The walk wasn't far, but it was more brisk than she had anticipated. As she picked up her pace, she had the distinct feeling that she was being followed. Jaime glanced behind her, but saw no one; nonetheless, she could sense them shadowing her. For the time being, however, she decided to ignore it; if harm had been the intention, it would have happened by now. She turned down K Street and stopped in front of a well-kept building. It was chilly, and there was a dampness in the air; Jaime pulled her coat tighter around herself. She saw the light still on in the second floor window, and she mounted the front steps. Jaime rang the doorbell and waited. The footsteps echoed down the wood stairs and momentarily the door opened. He was in a robe, his glasses balanced on top of his head, a book in his hand. There was a look of discomfort in his eyes, and she could see the tension forming in his shoulders.  
  
"Jaime.....is something wrong?"  
  
She smiled at him, "Does something have to be wrong for me to want to spend time with you?"  
  
"No, no....of course not; but it is late."  
  
They held each other's eyes for a moment, the awkward air creating a canyon between them. Jaime shivered slightly.  
  
"Can I come in for a minute? It's kinda cold out here."  
  
Rudy jolted out of his stupor, holding the door open for her.  
  
"I'm sorry, Jaime, please come in..."  
  
Jaime walked into the entryway, and the warmth of the house engulfed her like a soft hand. Rudy felt a tinge of guilt as he saw a shiver run through her. He put his hands on her shoulders from behind, squeezing gently.  
  
"Want a blanket?"  
  
She placed a hand over one of his, "No, I'll be fine in a minute."  
  
He led her over to the couch, next to the fireplace, placed some wood in it, and started a fire. Within moments, there was a blaze warming her. He removed her coat, setting it near the door, then he turned back to her.  
  
"Do you want some hot coffee?"  
  
"Aw Rudy, you don't need to go to any trouble, I really just wanted to--"  
  
"--it's no trouble, Jaime. You warm up. I'll be back in a minute."  
  
Jaime leaned into the soft cushions of the couch, thinking. Rudy was almost as jumpy as Oscar. He knew damned well why she had shown up at his door so late, but he didn't want to be put in the middle. And she couldn't blame him: but she needed to know. His voice almost startled her.  
  
"Here you go, this should help warm you up."  
  
She accepted the mug of steaming coffee, and observed him as he sat in the chair across from her. He was fidgeting with the book he had been reading, his nerves on edge. She waited, allowing the silence to grow to thunderous proportions. He couldn't stand it any longer. He leaned forward in his chair.  
  
"What's on your mind, Jaime?"  
  
"I can't just come by to see you, _Dr._ Wells?"  
  
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.  
  
"Of course you can, but we both know you didn't."  
  
Jaime sipped her coffee, and looked him right in the eye.  
  
"What's going on, Rudy?"  
  
He tried to keep his voice neutral, nonchalant, "What do you mean?"  
  
"Oh Rudy, come on: I've been here for three weeks, filing, answering phones, milling around his office, and Oscar hasn't said much. I feel like some kind of bionic babysitter." Jaime was tired of it. Rudy's eyes locked with hers and she continued, "You know what's going on, just tell me."  
  
He set the book down, and moved to sit in front of her on the coffee table. Gently he took her hands in his.  
  
"Oscar doesn't want to worry you."  
  
Her voice held more than just a tinge of annoyance, "Worry me about _what?_"  
  
He let go of her hands, and his voice grew softer, "There's been a threat on his life, Jaime."  
  
She studied him; that wasn't all.  
  
"And?"  
  
He looked away, "And a couple of attempts." He looked up at her again, "The second time they almost succeeded."  
  
Her anger was barely hidden, "Why didn't the two of them just tell me?"  
  
"Come on Jaime, you know how protective Oscar is of you; he fought Russ tooth and nail about bringing you out here to keep an eye on him, and one of the concessions was that you were not to be informed of the real reason for your presence. Besides, he thinks the only way to bring out the person or people behind this, is by giving them a viable target."  
  
"That could be suicidal, Rudy."  
  
"Yes, it could."  
  
Jaime looked at the man she trusted with her life, and knew he hadn't come clean with her. Dr. Rudy Wells was possibly one of the worst liars Jaime had ever known; his story just didn't add up. She smiled at him slightly, and leaned forward, holding the mug of coffee between her hands.  
  
"I've only been with him during the day....who's watching him at night?"  
  
"NSB has agents posted around his apartment."  
  
"_Around?_ Rudy, that's not going to do much if someone gets in there with him."  
  
Rudy stood up, and began pacing, his voice tinged with indignation, "Don't you think I know that?"  
  
Jaime could feel Rudy's worry, and ignored his momentary anger; her voice remained even.  
  
"This doesn't make sense. Russ has me covering him during the day in the OSI building, where he should be safe, then when he's home at night, the NSB is 'around,' but covering him with low priority presence."  
  
Rudy had stopped pacing and was standing with his back to her. She could see the tension in his shoulders.  
  
"Rudy? If you know something more...."  
  
His head dropped down, and he took a long breath, then slowly he turned to face her.  
  
"Oscar doesn't want you involved, Jaime."  
  
"That's ludicrous, Rudy. I can protect him a lot better than a bunch of guys with guns down the block." A frown creased her brow, as it hit her, "He knows who it is, doesn't he?"  
  
Rudy slowly nodded, "Yes."  
  
Jaime stood up and began pacing in front of the fireplace.  
  
"Well?" The doctor hesitated, and Jaime's ire rose up, "Damnit Rudy... I can't help him if I don't have all the information. Now tell me what you know."  
  
He looked into her fiery eyes and knew he couldn't keep the truth from her. In the end, she'd wriggle it out of him one way or another; she always did.  
  
Wells sighed, and sat down in the chair by the fire, his voice growing quiet, "Remember Dr. Gillespie?"  
  
Jaime rolled her eyes, "The bio-scientist who defected with his smart germ to the Middle East.....how could I forget?" She frowned, "It's him?"  
  
Rudy shook his head, "Not exactly....it's worse. The people who lost out when you extracted his research and destroyed his lab in Iraq. They want Oscar and--"  
  
"--That's all the more reason for tighter security. Rudy, can't you talk to him?"  
  
"I've tried, Jaime."  
  
"He won't listen to you?"  
  
"He listens, but he doesn't hear me.... and that isn't all of it." She stared at him, so he continued, "Oscar agreed to bring you out here because he's afraid--"  
  
"--they'll come after me. I should have known. That explains the tail that's been on me, and why I'm at the OSI all day long. He's got my apartment under surveillance as well.... Unbelievable, you know that? It's unforgivable...."  
  
Rudy stood and took her by the arms, "Hey.....Oscar cares about you, don't be angry with him for that."  
  
Jaime's eyes softened, "I'm not Rudy, it's just....."  
  
Her voice died out and she looked down at the floor. Rudy's hand gently brought her chin back up so that her eyes would meet his.  
  
"You're just disappointed that he didn't tell you the truth." She nodded, and he smiled, "That's Oscar. It's his way of protecting you, Jaime."  
  
"He's the one who needs protection. Nobody's tried to knock _me_ off.... He shouldn't try to shoulder this burden by himself, either; not when he has people around him who want to help him."  
  
Rudy moved away, "Don't be too hard on him, Jaime, this situation has been rough enough."  
  
Jaime's eyes squinted in suspicion, "How long has this been going on, Rudy?"  
  
Wells shrugged, "I don't know, three, maybe four months."  
  
"Three or four _months_? I don't know if I feel sorry for him, or would just as soon kill him myself....." She sighed, and after a moment, softened, "That poor baby. The stress alone has probably taken a huge toll on him..."  
  
Wells nodded in commiseration, "Yeah, if they wait long enough, he might just drop dead of a heart attack before they can--"  
  
Rudy stopped himself, but it was too late. Jaime was staring at him incredulously. He looked away.  
  
"Rudy?"  
  
_Oh hell._ He looked back at her, and his dark brown eyes pleaded for her to leave this one alone. But her hands came to her hips, and her eyes narrowed in anger.  
  
"Rudy Wells, you'd better fess up, and you'd better do it fast."  
  
His voice was almost a whisper, "There's nothing to tell, Jaime."  
  
"Bullshit. I've seen how many times a day you find an excuse to come up to the office. You're checking up on him, aren't you?"  
  
Rudy looked at her from beneath hooded eyes; Oscar would have his hide. But in his heart, he knew she deserved the truth.  
  
"He's been having some tightness in his chest, and shortness of breath." He hurried to add, "But it's nothing I can't fix."  
  
She looked right through him, "But you're worried it could turn into something far worse."  
  
He nodded in agreement, "Yeah. Oscar isn't getting any younger, Jaime....."  
  
She glared at him, "None of us are."  
  
"That's the truth."  
  
"At least one of us tells it like it is without prompting...."  
  
She was sorry as soon as the remark had rolled off her lips. Jaime watched Rudy plop dejectedly on the sofa, and lean his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. This whole situation had been rough on all of them, and she had played the guilt card a little heavy on the dear man. After a moment, Jaime couldn't stand it anymore, and she sat next to him, rubbing her hand gently on the back of his head.  
  
"I'm sorry, Rudy. This isn't your fault. I'm just worried about him, that's all."  
  
Wells just nodded, and for a moment, Jaime simply ran her hand through his hair.  
  
"I should let you get some sleep."  
  
She kissed his cheek, stood up to go, and held her hand out to him.  
  
"Walk me to the door?"  
  
He nodded, gratefully took the hand offered him, and walked her to his front door. Rudy helped her with her coat, and opened the door for her. She turned to him, but he couldn't meet her eyes. She bent her head down to catch his attention, and he smiled slightly at her.  
  
"I know you were asked not to say anything to me Rudy, and I'm sorry I put you on the spot; but I'm not sorry that I understand the situation now, because Oscar needs help. And you know that, and that's why you told me."  
  
He finally looked up at her, his eyes steady and serious, "I told you because I don't want anything to happen to Oscar, _or_ to you."  
  
Jaime touched the side of his face with her hand, and pulled him toward her; she brushed her lips gently against his, "Get some sleep Rudy, I'll see you in the morning."  
  
His timbre was full of tension, "Be careful going home, Jaime."  
  
She stroked his cheek gently, "Don't worry babe, I'll be fine." She smiled at him, "Besides, I have an entire unit of NSB security people following me. If I so much as break a nail, I'll have the whole squad on top of me." Rudy didn't smile, so Jaime tugged at the lapel of his robe, "Aw Rudy, please don't worry. Everything's gonna be okay.... "  
  
He nodded slightly, unconvinced, and she leaned in to kiss his check, whispering, "Leave the worrying to Oscar; without that, he wouldn't know what to do all day."  
  
Rudy stood at the door and watched as Jaime walked down the street, pulling her coat closer to herself for warmth. He watched for as long as he could see her, then finally, chilled to the bone himself, Rudy closed the door and called it a night.


	2. Chapter Two

Jaime stepped out of her apartment building to a sunny morning in Washington; but it was the kind of sun that couldn't take the chill from the crisp air. She shivered slightly, and began walking toward the OSI building. She could feel their presence as opposed to seeing them, but it annoyed her nonetheless. The audacity of putting an NSB tail on her galled her to her bones. An impish smile lit her lips; two could play the game of spying....

She glanced behind her shoulder, to her sides, and without warning, took off at bionic speed. She cut through an alley, behind several buildings, and jumped up to a fire escape. She climbed quickly to the roof, and using the rooftops of several governmental facilities, Jaime leapt from one to the next, until she came to the OSI. Knowing their security measures, she chose not to use the interior stairwell, which could easily have been accessed by her from the roof; instead, Jaime scaled down to the corner window, tapping it open with her right finger. Oscar jumped up from his desk, startled.

"Jaime! What in God's name are you doing?"

She climbed in, and closed the window, blocking out the chilly air. She brushed her hands together freeing them of dirt.

"You really ought to clean the outside of these windows sometime, Oscar, you know, they're really filthy."

He pulled his glasses off his face and stared at her, "Most people come in through the door, Miss Sommers. Now, I repeat, what are you doing?"

The playfulness fell quickly away from Jaime's face, "What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing, Oscar? Keeping me locked up in this building day after day, playing executive assistant, putting an NSB tail on me - the members of which by the way, need a little refresher course - and you conveniently never mentioned that there's been a couple of attempts on your life, and that you're putting yourself out there like some kind of governmental sacrifice--"

Russ entered the office quickly, "Oscar, the NSB just told us that Jaime gave them the slip and--" He stopped when he saw Jaime, then continued, "How did you get in here without us seeing you?"

Oscar looked at the young man, his tone sharp, "Call maintenance and tell them they need to clean the outside panes of my windows...."

"Oh."

Goldman's tone softened, "Russ, I'd also like you to contact Hansen, and tell him that the next time we need the Keystone cops for a job, we'll be sure to call him...."

Russ nodded silently and closed the door as he exited. Oscar turned back to Jaime, who was standing with her hands on hips, seething. He began pacing in front of his desk.

"Jaime, I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you--"

"--So you keep me locked up here during the day, put the NSB on my apartment at night, and you put yourself out there with a target on your head? Oscar, that's nuts."

He walked over to her, and put his hands on her shoulders, "Calm down, babe. We can't catch these guys if we don't give them a target."

She broke away from him, "That's not funny, Oscar. It's not like you don't know who they are, why don't you just--"

"--Rudy never could keep his mouth shut--"

"--I didn't give him a choice, Oscar, and he was right to tell me. Rudy's worried about you. And I have personal experience with these terrorists, and I'm telling you, they'd kill you just as soon as look at you."

He saw the fear in her eyes, and knew it was for him. Oscar moved a little closer to her.

"I want you to take it easy, Jaime. Nothing's going to happen to me, and especially not to you. We've worked out a careful plan, but in order to catch them, and put a stop to all of it, we have to catch them _doing_ something."

Tears filled her eyes, "What I understand, Oscar, is that you're putting your life at risk."

"Hey....." He pulled her to him, and held her tightly, "come on babe, it's going to be all right. I promise you. You're worrying for nothing."

She looked up at him, "It's a lot more than nothing, Oscar. And I saw the distress in Rudy, he's deeply concerned about you."

He let go of her, and walked around to his desk chair, trying to keep his voice light, "You know Rudy, he worries when he shouldn't."

She placed her hands on his desk and leaned forward as he sat down, "He's worried about your stress level, Oscar....and frankly, so am I."

He looked up at her, smiling, "It will help lower my stress level immensely, if you'll behave, Miss Sommers."

She stood up straight, anger coming to the fore, "This isn't a joke, Oscar."

He stood up again, "Neither is your giving the slip to your own security detail, Jaime. The terrorists would be just as happy to pay _you_ back for last year's mission, maybe more so."

"We both know I'm secondary here. They might come after me, but only after they've got you."

His voice rose with ire, "I'm sorry that you don't like it, Jaime, but you're damned well going to go along with it--"

"--And if I don't?"

The anger turned his eyes an almost black-brown, "If I have to put you under lock and key to protect you, I will--"

Rudy entered the room, "--Hey, what is going on in here? I can hear the two of you arguing down the hall...." Wells looked at Oscar, whose face was red with anger, and then he looked at Jaime, a slight warning in his voice, "I'm not sure that this kind of aggravation is really helpful in this situation."

Goldman's ferocity turned to Wells, "I don't need you to fight my battles for me, Rudy--"

"--And you don't need to be fighting battles." Wells looked at both of them, "Could we all just bring it down a notch or two and calm down?"

Jaime's guilt colored her voice, "You're right, I'm sorry." She looked at Oscar, "I just care about you, you know?"

He nodded as he let out a long sigh of air, "I know." Oscar glanced at Wells, "What's up Rudy?"

"I need to see you for about fifteen minutes in the lab."

Oscar glared at him, "I don't have time right now, Rudy."

Rudy kept his voice calm, "Fine. Make time this afternoon then." It was an order, not a request. He looked at Jaime, "Come on, Jaime, let's let Oscar get some work done. I could use your help for awhile."

Jaime understood Rudy clearly, and turned to Oscar, "I'll be downstairs if you need me. We'll finish this discussion later."

Oscar nodded, put his glasses on, and sat back down at his desk; if all went well, another attempt would be made soon, they'd catch those responsible, and he could put the whole thing behind him. But then, espionage rarely went according to plan...


	3. Chapter Three

Rudy turned on Jaime as soon as they had cleared the glass doors to Goldman's outer office.

"What did you think you were doing in there?"

Jaime was taken aback by Rudy's ire, and had to remind herself that he only gave into it when he was frightened for someone he cared deeply about.

"I'm sorry, Rudy..."

"That's not good enough, Jaime." He ran a hand over the back of his neck and stepped closer to her, his eyes full of fire, "You know better than that; do you want to push him until he has a heart attack?" Despite the tears that had begun to form in her eyes, he yelled at her, "Do you?"  
  
Guilt overwhelming her, Jaime couldn't speak. She looked down and shook her head, the tears falling hot down her face. Pacing away a few steps, Rudy took a calming breath, and felt his own regret at having made her cry. He shook his head and stepped closer, taking her by the shoulders.

His voice softened considerably, "I don't mean to be so harsh.....I'm just......"

Rudy's voice died away and Jaime looked up at him, finishing the thought, "You're just scared."

He nodded, "Yeah, I guess I really am." He put his arm around her shoulder, and moved her in the direction of his office, "Come on, let me take your mind off of this for awhile and show you what I've been working on. I think you'll find it interesting."

Jaime smiled wanly at Rudy, but the doctor knew damned well that she couldn't keep the worry from her mind. Neither could he.

* * *

Goldman looked up as the young man entered his office, "Well?"  
  
"Our intel's confirmed, they're going to make an attempt tonight."  
  
Oscar nodded, "Have we also confirmed that it is the Shia Hizballah that's behind this?"

Russ nodded, "Yes. Our sources in Lebanon have corroborated that this organization was the one which sponsored the theft of the Gillespie Project last year, and that they are in fact behind the attempts on your life."

Goldman stood, exhaling a large breath of air, "Okay..... Is everything in place?"

"Yes."

"Good." He turned and looked out the window, "And Jaime?"

"Well......"

Goldman turned back and glared at the young man, "Russ--"

"--It's a little sticky, Oscar."

"That's not the right answer, Russ."

The young man sighed, "I don't think you'll like this part of the operation, but I could only think of one way to insure her safety."

"And that is?"

"Sedate her and keep her here."

The dismay was evident in Oscar's tone, "Oh Russ--"

"--I told you that you wouldn't like this part."

Goldman paced in front of the window, "You're right, I don't."

"Look, we can't let her go home because they might try for both of you; but if she's here, at least they can't get to her. You know as well as I do, if she discovers the truth, there's no way she'll stay here voluntarily, and if she gets in the middle of it....well, there's no telling what could happen. If you want to keep her safe, this is the best solution for everybody."

Oscar stopped pacing, to look at Russ, "And just how do you think you're going to sedate her? She's not some naive little girl who's easily taken in; and you certainly can't overpower her....."

Russ looked away, swallowed, then turned to face Goldman, "That's the really awful part, Oscar. You're going to have to do it."

"What?"

"Oscar--"

"--No. Absolutely not." Oscar's tone turned emotional, "Don't you understand that I can't? Jaime trusts me, and--"

"--That's exactly right Oscar: Jaime trusts you."

The simplicity of it stopped Goldman cold. The two men stared at each other, their eyes locked in a battle of silent argument. While Russ respected Goldman tremendously, he had always felt that the older man was too soft where Jaime Sommers was concerned. It was a weakness that had put the OSI at risk more times than Russ cared to remember. And now he wondered if that fondness would put the old man's life in jeopardy; or worse, trigger the end of it.

Oscar could feel the perspiration slide from under his collar and down his back as the scrutiny of his young agent crept under his skin. Strategically, he understood how Russ had arrived at his determination, but how in the name of all that Oscar held true could he betray Jaime in this way? Goldman broke their concentrated stare and turned back to look out the window. Life in the mall was proceeding as it always did; people hurrying here and there, oblivious to whatever horrific fate of the day their government was at that moment trying to avoid on their behalf. For a brief moment, Oscar wondered when their collective luck would run out, and the United States would find itself at the mercy of terrorists. He closed his eyes in the painful realization that if they continued down their current path, that day would indeed come. He fought the emotion that began to rise in his throat at the idea that Jaime might someday become a statistic of counter espionage. What had he been thinking in allowing her to become an agent? The day would come when he'd no longer be there to protect her. But today, he could.

After what had seemed like an eternity, Russ saw Oscar's head drop in resignation. The older man took a deep breath, and spoke not above a whisper.

"All right...........bring me the sedative and I'll see to it."

"How do you plan to--"

Oscar whirled around and snapped, "--That is not your concern. I said I'd do it, but I'll do it in my own way. Now please, just go."

Russ silently exited the office, not enjoying what he had needed to do, but confident that it was the only option to not only keep Oscar and Jaime alive, but also to catch members of the Shia Hizballah in an act of espionage and treason. Once caught on US soil in an assassination attempt of the director of a government agency, the penalty could be swift and severe. He wondered if terrorists maintained their numb lack of respect for human life once the choice of when, how and whom was taken away from them. Somehow he doubted it.....


	4. Chapter Four

Oscar looked at his watch, and realized that he was already more than late in dropping by Rudy's lab as he had promised. He didn't bother taking his jacket with him, nor did he roll down his sleeves, button them, or straighten his tie. He turned to Callahan as he walked out of the wooden doors of his office, heading toward the glass ones leading to the corridor. He failed to notice her raised eyebrow at his disheveled appearance.

"Callahan, I'm going down to Rudy's lab for about fifteen minutes."

"Yes sir, I'll transfer any urgent calls."

He nodded at her and walked through the glass doors. Callahan watched him head toward the elevators, and noted the fatigue in his posture. She shook her head; Rudy was right, if the terrorists didn't get him, the stress would.

* * *

Oscar walked into the lab to find Rudy hunched over a microscope.

"I hope it's better than that picture playing at the Dupont...."

Rudy looked up at Oscar, a smile on his face, "Only if you're a science geek.... and don't try and pretend that you've been to the movies; I'll bet you haven't seen one in a theater since you were a kid." The doctor's eyes twinkled slightly. "They have sound now you know...."

Oscar chuckled slightly, "Yes, I'd heard that somewhere." He pat Rudy on the back, as he looked around the lab, noting the absence of his bionic agent. He unsuccessfully tried to keep the alarm out of his voice, "Where's Jaime?"

"Relax, Oscar, she's working off some steam in the basement gym."

Goldman nodded, "Tell her I need to see her before she leaves for the night, okay?"

Rudy nodded, "Sure. Now, come over here and sit down for a few minutes, and let me have a listen."

"This is so unnecessary--"

"--After you earn your medical degree, I might listen to your opinion on this subject, but until that time, Oscar, I'm the doctor. Now sit."

Reluctantly Goldman sat in the chair Rudy offered, his timbre showing his irritation, "If you hadn't convinced the Secretary that I need to have a babysitter for my blood pressure, I wouldn't be here."

Rudy untied Oscar's tie and unbuttoned the front of his shirt. "Just settle down, I'd prefer that you not have a coronary at this moment." Wells put the stethoscope in his ear and pressed the other end to Oscar's chest. "Breathe in slowly."

Goldman rolled his eyes, but inhaled a large breath of air.

"Let it out slowly."

Oscar did as he was told, although begrudgingly. Rudy moved the stethoscope to another spot.

"Again."

Oscar complied twice more as Rudy listened from his back, then the doctor pulled the eartips from his ears, and held his hand up to the large artery in Oscar's neck, while counting the seconds ticking by on his watch.

"Roll up your sleeve higher, please."

"Rudy...."

"Oscar...."

Goldman sighed loudly but rolled up his right sleeve to above his elbow. Rudy put his stethoscope eartips back in his ears, wrapped the BP cuff around Oscar's upper arm, and placed the diaphragm on Goldman's inner arm. He pumped the bulb and listened intently, a frown creasing his brow. Oscar flinched at the tightness of the cuff.

"Ow!"

"Shh!"

After a few minutes, Rudy pulled the eartips out of his ears, tossed the stethoscope down on a lab table, and released the cuff from Oscar's arm.

"That bad, huh?"

Rudy shook his head and stepped away, his voice colored with indignation, "Yes, Oscar, it really is. Your blood pressure is 150 over 118. You're a stroke waiting to happen." Rudy began pacing, his voice rising in pitch to match his anger, "Your resting pulse rate is 103, and your heart is developing a slight murmur." Wells looked at Goldman, "I'm very concerned, Oscar. More than concerned."

Wells went to the medicine cabinet against the wall and extracted a syringe and small bottle of clear liquid. He loaded the syringe, swabbed Oscar's arm with alcohol and not very gently, stabbed the needle deeply into Goldman's upper arm.

Oscar winced and rubbed the muscle, "I'm not a lab animal, Rudy....."

Wells glared at him over his glasses, his fury tightening his vocal timbre, "I know that. I wouldn't have done that to one of my animals."

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

"Overreacting?" Wells pulled the glasses off his face and angrily threw the syringe into the trash. "I'm scared, Oscar. Every time the phone rings, my stomach drops to my knees because I'm afraid Russ or Callahan will be on the other end telling me you've collapsed; or worse. I know how serious your condition is, I'm a doctor, remember? Don't tell me I'm overreacting."

Goldman stood and put a gentle hand on Rudy's shoulder, "All right, pal, I'm sorry--"

Wells pulled away, his rage escalating. "--Tell me how sorry you are when you drop dead, Oscar, because that's what will happen. We don't have to worry about any terrorists killing you, no, you're going to do it for them."

Rudy's brown eyes were overwhelmed with fear and anger, and Goldman couldn't bear to look into them any longer. Oscar glanced down and let out a long sigh of air, as much to calm himself as to take a moment to think. Rudy stepped closer, taking Goldman by the arms, his temper all but spent.

"I'm sorry, Oscar, I don't want to be so hard on you. I know your plate's more than full, and the stress you've been under has been tremendous. God knows, I don't mean to add to that burden, but as your doctor I need to impress upon you the importance of taking care of yourself." Wells gently squeezed the arms he held in his hands. "As your friend, I'm pleading with you to listen."

Oscar broke away from Rudy's grip, uncomfortable with the unabashed truth, and unable to trust himself to respond. Sensing his friend's discomfort, Rudy silently turned and walked to the cabinet, while Oscar buttoned his shirt and put his tie back on. Wells pulled a bottle of pills from a shelf of the medicine cabinet and brought it to Goldman.

"I'm prescribing some beta blockers for you. You'll take one pill, twice daily." He handed Oscar the bottle, and looked hard into the dark eyes. "I want you to actually take them, understand?"

Goldman accepted the bottle, and smiled slightly at Wells.

"Stop worrying so much, Rudy, or you'll be the one with who gets carted out of here on a gurney."

"Uh-huh. Just do as I ask, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Goldman headed toward the door, "By the way, what time are you leaving tonight?"

"I don't know, why?"

Oscar looked ill at ease for a moment, then he forced a smile at Rudy.

"Do me a favor and stop by my office before you go, okay?"

"Will do. In the meantime, try and relax....."

"Yeah...."

Rudy watched Oscar deposit the bottle of pills into his pants pocket, and walk out of the lab. He hoped the man would heed his warnings, but some part of him doubted it.

* * *

The soft knock on the large wooden door interrupted the conversation. Jaime stuck her head into the office, and looked at the two men.

"Hi guys."

Goldman stood, and Russ walked toward the door as Jaime opened it.

"Come on in, babe. Russ.....I'll see you later."

Russ looked at Oscar, then at Jaime, and then back at Oscar.

His voice was tense, "If you need something in the meantime, Oscar, let me know."

Goldman glared slightly, his voice tight with irritation, "Thank you Russ, that will be all for now."

After another long stare, Russ exited the room, closing the door behind him. Jaime turned to Goldman, a frown on her face.

"What was that all about?"

Oscar shook his head, "Disagreement regarding strategy."

She studied him, and didn't buy it, but chose not to pursue it.

"Rudy said you wanted to see me."

"Yeah."

Oscar put his hands in his pockets and began to pace, his demeanor more agitated than Jaime had ever seen it. She waited for him to continue, but he was silent.

"Oscar?"

He stopped pacing and let out a long breath, as if looking for courage. Jaime could swear that he was two shades paler than he had been when she entered the office only moments before. Her concern growing, she moved closer to him, taking his hand in hers.

"Oscar, what's the matter?"

He squeezed her hand but moved away abruptly, as though her proximity was somehow painful to him. The regret he already felt for something he had yet to do was paralyzing him. Goldman could feel his chest tightening with anxiety, and his breath was growing shallow. He turned his back to her, trying to gather his courage, and quell the guilt of his deceit.

"Oscar, you're scaring the hell out of me, are you all right?"

He turned toward her, his face almost grey in color. He grabbed his chest with one hand and reached for her with his other.

His voice was tight with pain, "Jaime, help me...."

She put her arms around him as he collapsed, her fear for him closing down her throat. Using her bionic strength, she moved him toward his desk chair. Seizing the distraction he had created, Oscar reached into his pocket, pulled out a loaded syringe, pulled the cap off with his teeth, and plunged it into her left arm. She pulled slightly away, and looked into his face, shock coloring her hazel eyes. The drug quickly affected her limbs, and he pulled her into his arms as she weakened. Jaime's eyelids began to flutter as the sedative worked its way through her body, and the premeditation of his treachery began to sink in.

There was a fear in her voice that froze his heart, "Oscar......what are you doing?"

He couldn't speak, nor could he bear to look into the eyes staring up at him with fear and disillusionment. It was all he could do to keep the tears that desperately wanted to overwhelm him at bay.

Though weak, her voice, like her eyes, was choked with the sting of betrayal, "Oscar.....why?"

Filled with a fear she had never known for a man she had loved and trusted, Jaime succumbed to the sedative, and passed out against him. Oscar gently lifted her into his arms, and carried her over to the couch, laying her carefully upon it. He covered her with a blanket, and for a moment, stared at her unconscious form. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, and he turned away, unable to face what he had done. Goldman walked quickly to his desk, scribbled on a piece of paper, folded it, wrote a name on one side, and then set the paper on the coffee table by the couch. He leaned over, gently brushed a lock of hair from Jaime's face, and softly kissed her forehead. Oscar prayed that she would forgive him, but the hurt he had witnessed in her eyes was burned into his memory, and from that, he knew that even if she exonerated him, she would never again trust him. The guilt he felt made him nauseous with consumption, and he knew if he stayed there for so much as another moment, he'd never be able to leave her. With tears silently rolling down his cheeks, he took one last look at Jaime, and left the office heading toward the parking garage.

His logical mind understood what he had just done and why, but his devoted heart would never absolve it.


	5. Chapter Five

Russ turned a concerned glance toward Goldman as he quietly sat down in the limo, but he said nothing. Judging from Oscar's pallor, the young man knew that Jaime Sommers was now lying unconscious in the Director's office. Oscar looked out the window, and clasped his hands tightly together, as though that would somehow atone for the guilt that consumed him. Russ noticed that Oscar's grip on his own hands was causing the flesh around his fingertips to turn bright red. The agent studied his mentor's face once more, and was struck by the sickly shade of grey it had turned. Russ took in a long breath of air, apprehension crashing through him like a tidal wave.

His voice was low and soft, "Is there something I can do?"

Oscar looked down at his own hands, and shook his head. A moment later, he again turned a blank stare to the darkened window of the towncar. Russ frowned and swallowed hard, his own guilt seeking exoneration through compassion. As he had seen Rudy do hundreds of times when Oscar was wound up, Russ softly pat the man's arm and tried to comfort him.

"She'll be all right. It was just a sedative."

Goldman looked into the young man's face, the indignation in his eyes searing into Russ as sharply as a laser beam. Oscar said nothing; but then, he didn't have to. Russ pulled his hand back, and turned away, suddenly unable to breathe. Oscar glared at him a moment longer, then silently turned back to the window and his own dark thoughts of self-recrimination.

* * *

Rudy looked at his watch and realized that it was long past time for him to head home. He closed up his lab, and walked to the elevator. As he depressed the button, he remembered that he had promised to stop by Oscar's office before he left for the night. Sighing, Rudy stepped onto the waiting car, and punched the button for the top floor. The doors opened into a silent corridor, most OSI personnel having long since left for the day. The doctor walked through the glass doors of Goldman's outer office, and seeing that Callahan too had gone home, proceeded through the wooden doors, lightly knocking as he opened them. He peered around the door and found an empty desk chair. Rudy looked to his right and saw the figure asleep on the couch. He shook his head, not at all surprised that Oscar had finally given in to his exhaustion. He stepped into the office, closing the door behind him, and walked toward the couch. As he drew nearer, he saw the blonde hair and curvy figure, and realized that it was Jaime lying there. He gently shook her shoulder.

"Jaime....hey, Jaime...."

She didn't rouse. Rudy frowned and shook her a little harder.

"Come on, Jaime, rise and shine, let's go."

When she still did not wake, an alarm in Rudy's head sounded. He sat on the edge of the couch, and turned her body toward him, quickly taking her pulse. It was slow and steady, and her respiration seemed perfectly normal. Wells let out a breath of air, and looked down; the white piece of paper on the coffee table caught his eye from its periphery. He picked it up and saw his name scribbled on one side of the note; he recognized Oscar's handwriting. Rudy opened up the folded paper and quickly read the words on it.

_Rudy:_

_Forgive me for the ruse in getting you to my office, but I wanted you to be able to check on Jaime, and I couldn't risk telling anyone of the NSB's plan in advance, not even you. The Shia Hizballah intends to make its move tonight, and I didn't want to take a chance that Jaime would try and stop me, or that these maniacs might target her as well. To that end, I sedated her with 45 mg's of temazepam. I'm trusting you not to wake her with a stimulant and tell her; and that's for her own protection, Rudy, as much as for my sanity. I simply needed to know that you would be with her to make sure she's all right. In the event that something goes wrong, please tell Jaime that I'm sorry for violating her trust; I only did so out of love._

_Take care of yourself, Rudy, and if I don't make it back, you know what to do._

_Always,_

_Oscar_

Wells could feel the panic rising within him. Panic and conflict. If he did as Oscar asked, Jaime would be safe, but she would never forgive either of them if something happened to Oscar. And Rudy knew damned well he couldn't entrust Oscar's life to the NSB; Hansen was good, but never as sharp when it came to protecting Oscar and the OSI. It all boiled down to a violation of trust: first Oscar to Jaime, and now Wells to Goldman. So much for the conflict. Rudy shoved the note into his pocket and ran for the elevator. He looked at his watch: he needed to inject Jaime with 20 mgs of Dextroamphetamine, give her a few minutes to rouse, brief her on Oscar's situation, and then hopefully catch up with Goldman before he turned himself into the latest name on the OSI deceased list.

Rudy felt his stomach begin to churn. Oscar would probably never forgive him for what he was about to do; but in the end, Rudy could live with the loss of the friendship a lot easier than the loss of the friend.


	6. Chapter Six

Thanks for your patience, peeps, this chapter was on my nerves, and before I could move the plot forward, I needed to rewrite this one....

* * *

As Oscar prepared to step out of the car, Russ stopped him with a light hand on his forearm.

"The NSB is taking a wide stance, but the OSI teams have got you under tight surveillance; when it starts to go down, just get out of the way, and we'll move in." He squeezed Goldman's arm. "Oscar, don't do anything heroic. I'd like to still have you as my boss tomorrow morning...."

Oscar nodded, but maintained the tightly controlled silence he'd displayed since leaving the OSI building. Russ felt his stomach twist slightly as Goldman slammed the limo door shut, turned, and disappeared into the front entrance of his building. Oscar couldn't afford for any of them to make a mistake.

* * *

Despite the argument ensuing within, the dark car raced through the streets of Washington D.C.

"Jaime, be reasonable--"

"--_Be reasonable? _ Oscar faked a coronary so that he could shoot me up with a sedative; don't tell me to be reasonable. He scared me, Rudy, and it was cruel. My trust in him has always been absolute; but now, I don't know what to think...."

Rudy saw the tears welling up in Jaime's eyes, and his voice softened considerably. "You can trust him, Jaime." She looked at him, unconvinced. "I know he went about it in the wrong way, but my guess is he felt he had no choice, and his need to protect you outweighed everything else." She still said nothing, and Wells took her hand gently in his own, "Come on, Jaime. What does your instinct tell you? Do you honestly believe that Oscar would harm you?"

She shook her head, a few tears washing down her cheeks, "No, but he should have just told me what was going on, instead of scaring me like that...."

Rudy squeezed the hand in his, "I know. But you have to believe that while it was a bad judgment call, Oscar didn't do it to hurt you."

She nodded, her timbre acknowledging the truth, "I do know that, Rudy." She sighed heavily, "But he's going to hear about it."

"Let's just hope we get to him in time for him to hear about it." Jaime looked into his eyes, and Rudy looked away. His voice was filled with dread, "He's alone this time, Jaime. He's alone, and I'm afraid for him."

She rubbed his hand softly, reassuringly.

"Rudy, come on babe, it's going to be okay....."

Wells looked up at her, "I hope so, because the alternative is unthinkable."

Jaime didn't answer him, but her heart skipped a beat. And in an instant, her red-hot anger had turned to ice-cold fear.


	7. Chapter Seven

"Don't look so concerned, everything checked out okay."

Russ stared at Hansen. "You swept the building?"

Hansen was annoyed, but tried to stay calm. "Of course. Nothing out of the ordinary. No bombs, surveillance devices - aside from ours that is - or unidentified workmen around the place." Hansen smiled and added, "And all the neighbors are the same ones who've been living there for at least the past five years."

"You checked them?"

Hansen's timbre belied his anger, "Yes. We did a door-to-door about fifteen minutes before Goldman arrived at the building and we put it in lock-down. Everything is as it should be. If the OSI has such a low level of confidence in us, why are we here?"

"Look, Hansen, I know you've had your differences with Oscar over the years, but--"

"--Are you implying that I would do less than my best because it's Goldman?" Hansen's nostrils flared in anger, "When this is over, I'll have your hide for this you little greenhorn."

Russ remained calm. "So long as Oscar's okay, you're welcome to it."

The young agent stepped away from Hansen, and moved to the other side of the surveillance van. He glanced at the electronic panels, watching the television monitors transmitting from the cameras set up throughout Oscar's building, and in his apartment. All was quiet; but Russ knew it wouldn't last.

* * *

A window on the top floor of Oscar's building slowly opened. One after the other, four unseen men dressed in black, expertly scaled up to the roof and stealthily slipped over the side of it. The four NSB agents stationed in each corner of the roof never saw them coming.

* * *

Oscar took his jacket off, tossing it in a nearby chair. He loosened his tie as he poured himself a glass of scotch, and unholstered his snub-nosed Colt as he walked into the sunken living room. Wearily, he plopped in a comfortable chair, setting the .38 in his lap. He took a long sip from the scotch, and tried to force himself to relax. A moment later, he let his head fall back to the cushion of the chair, closing his eyes. His mind quickly turned to Jaime: he hoped Rudy had remembered to stop by his office on his way out as he had promised. The thought of something happening to Jaime terrified him. He opened his eyes and took another sip of scotch, welcoming the warmth of the liquid as it rolled down his throat and into his belly.

The unassuming knock on his front door made him start.

He set the glass down on the table in front of him, and picked up the Colt from his lap. Oscar gripped the gun hard, pressing the cold steel into the palm of his hand. He walked cautiously to his front door, holding the .38 in a firing position.

His timbre was stern, "Yes?"

He recognized the small, high-pitched voice immediately. "Mr. Goldman? Mr. Goldman, it's your neighbor, Horace Niedelmeyer...."

Oscar let out a long sigh of air, set the Colt down on the small side table by the door, and shook his head: it was just what he didn't need, Horace Niedelmeyer. But Goldman couldn't keep the slight smile from his lips. At least once a week for the past five years, since his wife's passing, the 87-year old had some minor household issue he needed Oscar's help to resolve. The old man was lonely, and that was certainly a feeling Oscar could understand. Goldman opened the door, and there stood the diminutive elderly man, in his rumpled sweater, and thick, black-framed glasses that Oscar was sure he'd been wearing since 1955.

Goldman tried to keep the tension from his voice, "Mr. Niedelmeyer.....what seems to be the trouble this evening?"

The old man grinned, his thickly-accented speech a little heavier than usual, "I vas vondering if you could shpare a moment to help me vis mine television."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"It's olt, mine boy, like me, andt I think it needs zome minor adjustments, the picture's gone all shcrewy-upsy. I know you're busy, you always are, but if you vould help me, I vould be most grateful, andt you know there's always a cup of tea andt a varm piece of schnecken for you vhen you're finished."

Goldman smiled at the old man, "All right, Mr. Niedelmeyer, but I'll have to take a raincheck on the tea and schnecken, I have a lot of work that I must finish tonight."

The old man's eyes lit up at the mention of Oscar's work, and he tugged on Goldman's sleeve to follow him. "Are you shtill huntink bad men for de government? You'd think after all the years you've been at it, you'd have caught von by now...."

Goldman had to stifle his laughter as he followed Niedelmeyer into the apartment next door. If nothing else, the old man always provided much-needed comic relief in Oscar's life. Goldman glanced at his watch; he would have to stick to the five minute rule tonight. He didn't want to take a chance that the old man would be caught in any kind of crossfire.

* * *

Russ had to stifle the laugh that rumbled in his throat as he watched the monitor over Hansen's shoulder.

"Unbelievable," Hansen commented, "the Director of the OSI's hobby is repairing television sets for little old neighbors who have nothing better to do."

"Have a heart, Hansen, the guy's almost 90, and he's been living next door to Oscar for about 20 years."

Hansen glared at Russ, but chose not to respond. That would come later, and he would make this young upstart of Goldman's pay. For now, he needed to stay sharp and keep a tight rein on the operation.

* * *

Kneeling in the dark alley by the back entrance to Goldman's building, Agent Nathan Franks whispered into his walkie-talkie.

"All members of Operation Prime Time report in."

He waited while each agent quietly responded that he was in place and ready.

As the litany of reponses carried across the communication device, the last of the four men in black on the roof, dispatched his NSB counterpart, watching the man silently slide to unconsciousness at his feet.

He picked up the dropped walkie-talkie and responded, "R4 all clear and standing by."

Agent Franks signaled to Hansen, "Stepsister one to Stepmother; the pumpkins are in place, ready to whisk Cinderella off to the promised land."

Hansen's voice delivered quietly through the walkie-talkie, "Read you, Stepsister one. It's all up to Prince Charming now. Stepmother out."

Franks slipped the walkie-talkie into his pocket and silently waited, unaware of the danger on the rooftop.

* * *

A few buildings away from Goldman's Jaime used her bionics to leap upward from balcony to balcony. Within minutes she was on the roof of the building down the street. Crouching low, she quickly worked her way across the roof, and scanning the street below for any watchful agents, she jumped across the alleyway to the next building. Ten minutes after leaving Rudy in the car, Jaime landed on the roof of Oscar's building, and right into the hands of the Shia Hizballah. 


	8. Chapter Eight

As Jaime reached quickly for the door to the stairwell in Oscar's building, she saw one of the agents in black coming toward her; she realized too late that he wasn't one of theirs. He leveled his semiautomatic machine gun at her.

"I wouldn't do anything rash, Miss Sommers. It would end badly for you."

Jaime felt her stomach begin to churn. If they were up here on the roof undetected by the OSI, who was watching Oscar?

* * *

Hansen glared at Monitor #7. Russ walked over.

"Problem?"

"Not sure." Hansen squinted at the picture, "Thought I saw something move on the roof, but I don't see anything out of the ordinary now."

Jack pressed a button on the console, "Stepmother to R1, report your status."

A voice responded, "R1 all clear and on standby."

"Stepmother to units R2 through four, report."

The units responded, and still Hansen frowned. Russ stepped closer.

"What is it?"

The older man shook his head, "I'm not sure. I've just got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach...."

One of the younger agent's eyebrows raised, but he refrained from commenting further. Hansen turned to another NSB agent in the van.

"Lewis....how long did Goldman say he'd be in the old man's apartment?"

"Five minutes, Mr. Hansen."

Hansen nodded, but didn't say anything. He would give Goldman five minutes, but not much more. Jack Hansen was many things, but diligent was at the top of the list. And he rarely got that funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Oscar closed the door to Niedelmeyer's apartment and turned toward the living room. He inhaled a sharp breath of air as his eyes landed on the body of Horace Niedelmeyer sitting on the couch by the window, a bullet in his brain. Goldman looked to the little man standing next to him, and the man pulled a gun from under his sweater, pointing it at Oscar.

"Don't make a sound Goldman. Don't even breathe heavily."

Oscar's timbre was low and dangerous, "Who the hell are you?"

The man pulled off the latex mask covering his face and head, revealing a much younger man, and then he removed the voice modulator which had been taped to his throat underneath the mask.

His timbre and accent were completely different, "I think you know the answer to that question, do you not?"

Goldman growled, "A member of the Shia Hizballah."

"Very good, Mr. Goldman."

Oscar looked over at the body of Horace Niedelmeyer, and he felt a strange surge of sadness and anger pulsate through him. He turned back to the man with the gun.

"You didn't have to kill him...."

"Such sentiment from an American spy?" The man laughed. "He was an old man, long having outreached his usefulness. You Americans hold onto every last second of life as though you should. You are nothing but decadent, overindulgent, wasteful pigs. The world would be far better without your influence."

"And without our medical aid, willingness to stand behind our allies and help out other countries in times of need, not to mention a lot of our money, the world would be in a vastly larger jam than it's in now."

"I would expect exactly that kind of propaganda to flow freely from your mouth."

Oscar took a menacing step forward, and the man pointed the gun at Goldman's head.

"I will shoot you where you stand, Mr. Goldman."

"What difference could it possibly make if I die here, or somewhere else? Either way, your people are not going to let me live."

The man smiled and nodded back toward the living room. "Quite true, but do you feel the same way about the life of one of your prize agents?"

Goldman whirled around and his heart plummeted to his knees as his eyes landed on Jaime, held at gunpoint by another terrorist. The panic thrumming through Oscar's body threatened to overtake him. He looked into Jaime's eyes, and the fear he saw in them weakened him further.

His voice was filled with distress, "Jaime.....oh, Jaime....."

Sommers couldn't meet his eyes. It was the very situation he had tried so desperately to prevent, and she had single-handedly put herself into the hands of the Shia Hizballah. And she knew that Oscar would do almost anything they asked of him in order to save her. The regret in her voice was plain.

"I'm sorry, Oscar."

Goldman turned toward the man with the gun, "Look, you have me, you don't need her. If you let her go, I'll go with you quietly. The Gillespie Operation was mine, Jaime Sommers was merely acting under my orders--"

"--Enough. I want both of you, and we are short on time."

Jaime and Oscar held each other's eyes. They weren't sure exactly what the man meant, but they knew it couldn't possibly be good for their longevity.


	9. Chapter Nine

"Lewis," Hansen snapped, "how many minutes?"

"Six minutes, thirteen seconds."

Hansen shook his head, and reached for a button.

Russ stopped him, "What are you doing? Oscar's just helping an old man...."

Hansen stared deeply into the young man's eyes. "Are you willing to stake Goldman's life on that assumption?" When Russ didn't answer, Jack said, "I thought not."

Hansen pressed the button.

"All units, this is Stepmother, we are at code zulu, alpha, charlie, four. I repeat, we are at code zulu, alpha, charlie, four. All units move in!" Hansen unholstered his weapon and turned to Russ, indicating the younger man's gun, "You know how to use that thing?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go."

Russ followed Hansen out of the van and they ran with agents in tow toward Oscar's building.

* * *

As the sound of running footsteps filled the corridors, the terrorists moved their two hostages out into the hallway, quickly shoving them toward the stairwell leading to the roof. OSI and NSB agents appeared as they made their way up the rooftop stairs. The terrorists open-fire, and the Federal agents took cover, holding their own gunfire, for fear that they might hit Oscar or Jaime. Sommers watched in horror as Oscar collapsed to the ground.

"Oscar!"

The man gruffly moved her up the stairs, and turned to the one behind him, as he moved in Goldman's direction.

"Leave him, he's dead already."

Jaime's heart stopped for a second as the words registered in her mind. She tried to turn back to look, but the man kept shoving her along. Hansen and Russ reached the stairwell just as the agents cautiously moved upward. Russ bent down to check Oscar, and Hansen moved his teams up to the roof. The terrorists turned and fired as the agents tried to storm the roof. Hansen looked at his second in command.

"Set up teams on all adjacent rooftops and seal the area. They've got themselves into a corner, there's nowhere for them to go. The can't go down, and with the airspace restricted, they sure as hell aren't going up."

"Yes sir!"

The man headed back down the stairs just as they all heard the impossible: it was the sound of rotor blades. Hansen peered out through the door of the roof, and saw a helicopter rise above the people on the roof, tossing lines down for them to climb up.

Hansen yelled, "Damnit, no! How is this happening...."

The largest of the men grabbed Jaime from behind, but using her bionics, she broke away. Another man went for her, but she knocked him down as well. Hansen and his team burst through the door and onto the roof. The two terrorists still standing opened-fire at them, causing the men to dive behind anything for cover. Jaime took off at bionic speed toward Hansen and his men, only to be cut down by a machine gun a moment later. The terrorist picked up her body, grabbed a line, and started to be pulled toward the helicopter.

Hansen screamed to be heard above the noise, "Go, go, go......"

The men moved out and for several minutes, there was only the sound of a heated battle. As the Feds dropped the remaining terrorists, the helicopter pulled away, and out of range. Hansen could only standby, as Goldman's bionic woman fell into the hands of terrorists, and it had happened on Jack's watch. He shook his head in defeat. Whether Jaime Sommers was dead or alive, he could not say. For that matter, Jack wasn't even sure if Goldman had survived. He holstered his gun and silently headed for the access door.


	10. Chapter Ten

Russ handed Wells a glass of water, "Here, Rudy."

The doctor looked up at Russ and smiled wanly, "Thanks, Russ."

Wells held the glass in front of Oscar's hand, but the man ignored it. Sighing, Rudy set the glass down on the dining room table in front of them. Oscar continued to lean his elbows on the table, holding his head in his hands, while Rudy gently rubbed his neck, trying to calm him.

"Oscar, you did everything you could. You're lucky you just passed out; it could've been a full-blown coronary."

The sarcasm fell off Goldman's words. "Jaime might be dead, but I'm _lucky_ I didn't have a coronary...."

Rudy flinched at the steel in Oscar's tone.

"You know what I meant." Goldman said nothing and Rudy let out a long sigh of air. "Look, Hansen isn't sure of what he saw, so let's not--"

"--He saw Jaime get hit, Rudy. She fell, and was carried off by a bunch of terrorists." Goldman fought to keep his voice even, "We don't know where she is or if she's even still--" He shook his head, unable to finish the unthinkable.

Rudy's timbre was laced with guilt, "This is my fault. I should have left her sedated."

"Yes, you should have."

The accusation in Goldman's tone cut Wells to the core, and as soon as he said it, Oscar felt remorse. The hand gently rubbing his neck fell away, and Rudy slumped back into his chair. Goldman folded his hands together on the table, and looked down at them.

"I'm sorry, Rudy. I didn't mean that."

"Yes Oscar, you did, and you're right."

The uncomforable air sat between them for a long moment, until Oscar took in an uneven breath, letting it out in short gasps. He leaned back in his chair. Wells reached over to him in concern.

"What is it?"

"Just feel a little light-headed."

"Did you feel like this before you passed out on the stairwell?"

"I guess so."

Wells took Goldman's pulse and his face fell.

"Rudy?"

"Your heart can't work this hard, Oscar. Your blood isn't pumping properly."

"It's getting a little hard to breathe...."

"You're not getting enough oxygen." Rudy pat his friend's shoulder, "Oscar, we need to get you to a hospital--"

"--No."

Wells squeezed the shoulder under his hand. "I know you want to oversee the rescue operation, but Oscar, I've got to get you stabalized, and I can't do that here. If we don't....."

Goldman looked into the concerned brown eyes and saw the fear in them. "I'm heading for disaster, huh?"

Rudy rubbed his hand along Oscar's shoulders, "Yeah, you really are. Look, if I can get your bp and pulse rate down, make it a little easier on your heart, I'll think about letting you come back home. But either way, Oscar, you're going to have to rest for a few days."

"What about Jaime?"

"You're going to have to trust Russ to handle the extraction. That little fainting spell was a warning; the next time won't be." Goldman looked at his own hands, and Rudy leaned in toward him. "You can't do her any good if you're dead."

Still looking at his own hands, Oscar simply nodded.

Wells squeezed his shoulder and yelled over to the young agent by the door, "Russ, get Oscar's car, we're taking a little trip to National...."

Russ nodded silently, and radioed for the car. He glanced over at his mentor, who looked tired and extremely pale. The young man knew in his heart that if he couldn't bring Jaime back to Oscar, the Director of the OSI wouldn't survive the loss.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Her eyes snapped open in the pitch black of the space surrounding her, and she felt fear. She had no idea where she was, nor any recollection of how she had arrived. What Jaime Sommers did know was that she needed to be calm. Concentrating on her breathing first, she slowed down her respiration, and in the dark, took stock of her own condition. She felt groggy and slightly dizzy. Jaime reached up with her hand, and rubbed an area of pain at her right temple, discovering a spot where a bullet had grazed her forehead. After checking her bionic limbs, and establishing that there was no damage, Jaime slowly sat up. A wave of nausea rippled through her, and she took a deep breath. After a moment, it passed. In the darkness, she reached out with her hands into empty air. Jaime carefully stood, and slowly moved forward, her hands extended out in front of her. After a few steps, she hit what felt like a wall. She followed the wall around a very small room, but to her dismay, found no doors or windows. Jaime got on her knees and felt the entire floor, which was concrete, but there was nothing else.

By process of elimination, Jaime figured the only way out must be up. She reached above her head, but couldn't find anything. She hated the idea of using her bionics to leap upward in the pitch blackness of the room, but could see no other option. She bent down, and sprang upward, holding her hands out above her head. She hit the ceiling hard with her hands, and felt the sting in her left one from the impact, but at least now she knew the distance of it. Methodically, Jaime jumped up to touch each section of the ceiling, until she finally felt the small steel door. And a shiver ran up her spine, for she had to be imprisoned in a small basement cell. After several jumping investigations, Jaime could not find any kind of latch. She was going to have to find a way to break through the steel by repeatedly jumping upward, and pounding into it with her bionic hand.

It was going to take awhile, and Jaime hoped no one was around to hear the sounds of her slowly breaking through steel.

* * *

Rudy stood next to the hospital bed, notating in Oscar's chart. The exhausted voice caused him to look down at his patient.

"Any news?"

Wells shook his head, and Oscar's brow furrowed. Rudy reached a soft hand down, patting Goldman's shoulder.

"Try not to worry, Oscar. Russ is moving heaven and earth to find her, and Jaime's not without the ability to take care of herself."

Goldman said nothing, but Rudy could see from the look on his face that he would be unable to take his mind off of it. He took a long breath of air, and reached over to the tray behind him, and the syringe loaded with a sedative upon it. Oscar looked up at the doctor.

"No, Rudy, please don't...."

Wells shook his head, but his voice remained soft, "I'm sorry, Oscar, but you're wound up like a drum. This is very mild, it's just going to help you relax, that's all."

Goldman felt too tired to argue as Rudy gently injected him. After a moment, Oscar sensed his eyelids growing heavy.

"If you hear anything..."

"I'll wake you up, I promise. Just get some rest, Oscar."

Wells stood there until Goldman was asleep, then quietly, he slipped out the door, anxious to hear an update on the search for Jaime.

* * *

"What do you mean you don't have any leads?"

Russ paced the length of Oscar's office, "Exactly that, Rudy. It's like they disappeared into thin air."

Wells made an effort to keep the anger from his timbre, "There's got to be something, Russ. People don't just evaporate."

"Don't you think I know that?" Rudy calmly looked at Russ, but said nothing. After a moment, the younger man continued, "I'm sorry."

"You're uptight. I understand."

"I can't fail him, Rudy."

Wells reached over and squeezed the agent's shoulder, "You won't, Russ. Just keep looking. She's out there somewhere, and if they had cleared US air space, we'd know. They can't have taken her that far."

Russ nodded and took a calming breath. "You're right."

Rudy patted the man, "Oscar chose you because you're good at what you do, Russ. Try and remember that, okay?"

Russ nodded and walked back to Goldman's desk, once again turning his attention to the search for Jaime. Wells glanced at his watch, and realized he needed to check in on his patient. Quietly, Rudy slipped out, heading back to the hospital, and he hoped, good news for a change.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Jaime had been steadily working on the steel door in the ceiling for longer than even she would have thought. And she could feel it beginning to give under the pressure of her bionic thrusts. She leapt up once again, and her fist finally went through, and she grabbed on to the top of it, trying not to look into the light that shined in her ill-adjusted eyes. Holding herself with her left arm, she peeled back the steel with her right, until there was enough room for her to squeeze through, and she hoisted herself up and out of the the little basement cell. She was not, however, prepared for what awaited her.

The group of machine gun-wielding men stared at her in astonishment, their weapons trained at her head. Jaime sighed.

Hi guys... guess you're not used to seeing women pound her way through steel doors, huh?

If the men understood her, they gave no indication of it. She started to heft herself the rest of the way out of the hole she had made, only to be rewarded by the guns coming closer.

Okay, well, I can sit here in the middle of this hole, or I can sit down on the floor. I know which one I'd prefer...

A voice from behind them spoke in Iranian, and the guns backed off. He stepped from behind the ranks, and Jaime recognized him. He was the man who had been with Gillespie in the lab back in Tabriz. He looked at her and spoke in English.

Obviously everything that Dr. Gillespie said about you is true.

Jaime glared at him. I suppose if you like gossip, it's as good as anyone else's.

The man laughed. Yes, if I were you, I'd admit to nothing; however Miss Sommers, he pointed to the hole in the steel, it's a little difficult to deny at this point. At least, it explains how you were able to get away last year.What is it you want?

The man's eyes turned caustic. You cost us a lot of time and money, Miss Sommers. We intend to recoup our losses.Really. And just how do you intend to do that?Well, we were going to sell Goldman to the highest bidder, the information he has in his head is worth a small fortune.Oscar would sooner kill himself than give secrets away to foreign governments.Quite true, but with all the modern techniques and drugs, he wouldn't have had much choice. That is now a moot point in any case----What do you mean?

He smiled at her. Of course, you would not know. Goldman's dead.

The two words hit Jaime hard in the gut, as surely as a physical blow. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and tried to hold back the tears that she knew were threatening to fill her eyes.

You're lying.

The man shrugged. We have no reason to do that. You can't get away this time, Miss Sommers, and we will sell _you_ to the highest bidder. Something tells me you'll fetch more money than Goldman would have in any case. He turned to one of the men with the machine guns. Put her in the next room with armed guards outside at all times. If she tries to escape, kill her.Kill me, and I'll be worth nothing.

He smiled. Unfortunately for you, Miss Sommers, that's not true. An autopsy would prove almost as informative regarding your bionic secrets. And there is always the added plus of permanently shutting your mouth. American women talk far too much.

Jaime watched him leave, and didn't resist as one of the men grabbed her arm and lead her through a door, down a hall, and into another cell. As the door slammed home, Jaime slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor. The only thing that muffled her sobs of grief was the three-inch thick walls of steel separating her from her captors. But in that moment, Jaime didn't care. She only knew that she had lost someone very close to her, and she hadn't felt a hurt of such magnitude since the day her parents were killed when she was 16. Jaime pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her head into them, sobbing like a small child. She knew she'd have to get past it quickly if she was to stand any chance of surviving, but for this small moment, she would give in to what was in her heart for Oscar. She owed him at least that much.


	13. Chapter 13

Russ glared at the communiqué from Hansen, and read through it once again. Callahan couldn't stand it any longer.

Any news?Not any we want to see. He looked up at the petite blonde. Have you heard from Rudy?No, I'm afraid there's been nothing new on Oscar.If I don't find her, Callahan, it'll kill him.

Callahan refrained from commenting on the obvious; that Oscar was emotionally tied to Jaime wasn't a question in anyone's mind. The door opened quickly, and Hansen walked in, followed by several of his agents. His face looked grim, as he handed Russ a piece of paper.

Russ scanned it. Oh, shit...I'm sorry, but we can't be delicate about this. Our orders are to find them and dispatch bombers.

Russ looked up at Hansen, the gravity of the situation shining in his eyes. But what if----No, any rescue attempt is out of the question. He softened slightly and stepped closer to the younger man. You know as well I do, Russ, that it's probably the kindest thing we can do.

Russ nodded, but it was more out of shock than understanding. Hansen motioned to his men, and they left Russ and Callahan standing in silence in Oscar's office.

Russ? Russ, what's going on?'

He looked up at Callahan, his head feeling as if it were about to explode. The Shia Hizballah is planning on selling Jaime to a foreign government.And that means we can't rescue her?

Russ handed Callahan the paper he was holding as he headed to the bar in the room. They'll dissect her without so much as putting her under, Callahan, that's what Hansen meant when he said bombing the target might be the kindest thing. That, and our government doesn't want the bionic technology to fall into enemy hands.So they're just going to kill her? Callahan looked down at the paper in her hands. This...this came from the President.

Russ poured himself a drink. Yes it did.So there's nothing we can do...Not unless we want to face charges of treason, no.How are you going to tell Oscar?

He drained the glass and refilled it. I'm not.You can't keep this from him, Russ. Not this.Not forever, no, but for awhile I can.You'll only be postponing the inevitable.Maybe. But at least Rudy will have time to see that Oscar gets a little stronger.

Callahan looked sadly at him. With a blow like this, Russ, it's not going to matter...

He watched her as she walked out of the office, gently closing the door behind her, and Mark Russell sat in Oscar Goldman's chair, and wept.


	14. Chapter 14

Rudy heard the door behind him open, and turned to see Russ standing in the doorway. He motioned for Rudy to follow him out into the hall. Silently, the doctor followed the agent into a quiet waiting room several feet from the nurse's station, down the hall from Oscar's room. Russ stopped in the small area, but didn't turn around, and Rudy felt the muscles in his belly tighten in anxiety over what was coming. 

Russ? Russ, what is it? When the man turned to face him, his ashen pallor sent Rudy's stomach into his throat. Oh my God, it's Jaime isn't it?

Russ' eyes flooded with tears, and the words flowed out quicker than he meant for them to. I'm sorry, Rudy, I did everything I could, I swear to God I did, but they're going to sell her to a foreign government, and we've been ordered to find them and bomb the hell out of them----Okay, it's okay. Rudy took ahold of Russ by the shoulders and gently guided him to sit down on the couch. Russ was so distraught, he could barely catch his breath, and Rudy was afraid the man might hyperventilate. It's not your fault, Russ, and I want you to calm down.

Russ nodded, but he still couldn't catch his breath. I can't tell Oscar, Rudy, I can't...he...he was depending on me...and...I can't tell him.

Rudy reached behind Russ' head and pulled his forehead into his shoulder. Shhh, it's all right. After a minute or so, Rudy pushed him slightly away and held him at arm's length. Who gave the order, Russ, was it the Secretary?

Russ shook his head. No. It was the President.

And Rudy understood the devastation. There would be no appealing this one, and no ignoring it without facing a charge of treason. Rudy let out a long sigh of air as the facts sunk in, and he stood with his hands in the pockets of his pants, and began pacing. The burning sensation in his belly was getting worse as he realized that there was no way out of this one. He looked down at Russ, who looked like he had lost the world, and Rudy knew he had to let the man off the hook. He placed a tender hand on the agent's shoulder, and after a moment, Russ looked up at him.

Rudy's voice was like a soft caress. I'll tell him.Rudy, I can't ask you to do that. It was my responsibility.That may be, Russ, but I've known him longer than anyone else, and I'll be the one to tell him; he doesn't have to hold back with me, and maybe somehow, that will lessen the blow.

Russ shook his head. It's going to destroy him, Rudy. You know how he feels about her.

Rudy looked down at the floor for a moment, trying to keep his own emotions in check, and when he looked back up at Russ, his eyes were flooded with tears. Yeah, I know.

Russ swallowed hard. I'm sorry, Rudy, I know you love her too.

The older man patted the agent on the shoulder. You go home and get some rest, and let me take care of this; you did everything you could, Russ, but you can't go up against the President.

Russ stood. Let me know how he is...after... please, Rudy.Don't worry Russ, I'll take good care of him, you know that.

Russ nodded, and slowly walked out of the room and disappeared down the hallway. Rudy ran his hands over his head and through his hair. How he was going to tell Oscar Goldman that Jaime Sommers was about to become a statistic on the OSI casualty list he didn't know, any more than he knew how either of them would survive without her. Rudy closed his eyes to steady himself; he had to find the strength within to see this through, because he couldn't bear the idea that Oscar would hear this news from anyone but him. Rudy swallowed hard and took in a large breath of air, letting it out slowly. His hand instinctively gripped his abdomen as a sharp pain stabbed into him. He pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket and swallowed one. He knew in a moment, he'd be fine, he always was; but he didn't know if Oscar would be...


	15. Chapter 15

The door to the room opened, and Oscar felt a wave of nausea when he saw Rudy's face. He swallowed hard and tried to relax, but it didn't help. His voice was tight with fear.

"Rudy? What is it?"

The doctor looked down at the floor as he silently approached the bed, his hands buried deeply in his pockets. He didn't know how to say it; but even if he did, he didn't want to. After a long moment of gripping silence, Rudy looked up at Oscar, his eyes filled with a hollow sadness that Goldman had never before seen in them. Silently, Wells reached out a hand, and whether out of habit or comfort, felt his patient's forehead, then placed his fingers at Oscar's neck for a pulse, and finally allowed his hand to rest on his friend's shoulder.

"How do you feel, Oscar?"

For a long moment, Goldman didn't answer, but instead searched his friend's eyes for the truth. The soft timbre of Oscar's voice rolled over Rudy like a gentle fog, coating his frayed nerves with a soothing caress.

"It's not your fault, Rudy." Wells looked at him sharply, and Goldman continued, "You came in here to tell me we've lost her, old friend, I can see the guilt in your eyes. It wasn't because of you, Rudy. If anyone's to blame, it's me. I should never have lied to her, not even to protect her."

Wells sat on the edge of the bed, folding his hands in his lap. He kept his voice soft and low. "I...if I could trade places with her--"

Oscar placed a large hand on top of Rudy's, stopping him. "--It wouldn't make it any easier, Rudy. That wouldn't make it any easier to bear." Wells felt the sting of moisture in his eyes, and he started to get up from the bed, but Oscar held onto him. "Tell me, Rudy. I want to know."

The chocolate brown eyes stared intensely into the almost black ones. "They want to sell her, Oscar."

"To a foreign government..." Rudy nodded, and Oscar continued, "Then she's still--"

"--The order came down from the White House, Oscar. There is no recourse."

Goldman's brow pulled tightly together. "You don't believe that, Rudy... tell me you don't."

Wells looked down, then back up. "As soon as Hansen finds the Shia Hizballah, the Air Force will be deployed. The President doesn't want any loose ends."

Anger filled Oscar's eyes and tone, "Loose ends? Jaime is not a loose end. My God, Rudy, this can't happen." Goldman grabbed a hold of Wells. "Promise me you're not going to just sit by and let this happen." When Wells didn't respond, Oscar's voice became as hard as his grip. "I want to speak with Russ. Now."

The doctor cleared his throat. "There's nothing he can do, Oscar. There's nothing any of us can do." Rudy looked deeply into his friend's eyes and saw the magnitude of devastation. He gently took Goldman's hand in his own. "Oscar, this is the end of the line. We can't save her this time."

Tears flooded Oscar's eyes, and he swallowed down his emotion as best he could, failing miserably. "I can't accept that, Rudy. I won't accept it."

Oscar pushed Rudy away and tried to get out of bed. Wells took a hold of Goldman, firmly pushing him back into the pillows.

"There's nothing you can do, Oscar. Even if you could get out of this bed and look for her, you're not an army - you're one man."

Goldman stared incredulously into Rudy's eyes. "I can't believe I'm hearing this from you. I can't believe that you'd just let her die, Rudy. How can you do nothing?" Oscar's voice began to shake as his love for Jaime surfaced. "We can't just let them kill her, Rudy. We can't... I can't..." The dark brown eyes glared into the chocolate ones. "I'd sooner die than sit back and allow this to happen."

Rudy's voice sounded small, "I know that. But I'm not going to lose both of you."

Before Oscar could object, Rudy pulled a loaded syringe from his pocket and injected the man with it.

"Rudy, no..." His voice was a beseeching cry, "Please Rudy, no..."

Wells sat closer to Goldman, pulling the distraught man into his arms, shoving his own spiraling feelings as far away as he could. He rubbed a strong hand across Oscar's back as the man's sobs shuddered through his body. Rudy felt moisture fill his own eyes, but refused to let any fall; he didn't deserve to mourn Jaime, he understood that. He held onto Oscar for a long while, long past the time that Goldman had fallen into a troubled sleep. Rudy felt sick. He knew that as long as he lived, he would never be free of the sadness and guilt that now burdened his heart.

"God forgive me," he whispered.

* * *

He looked at the computer screen with the flashing telemetry once again, and sat frozen in his chair. For the third time in as many minutes, he typed in numbers on the keyboard and waited for the results. It wasn't changing. And it couldn't be right. He picked up the phone, dialed a number and waited. 

"Hansen here."

"Director, it's Stone...I've got them, but you're not going to believe where they are..."

* * *

The Secretary stared at Jack Hansen. "This is impossible. There must be some mistake." 

Hansen shook his head, "I'm sorry Mr. Secretary, but it's not a mistake. We've checked it, cross checked it and then checked it again. The signal from Sommers' implant is coming from beneath the Pentagon..."

The Secretary leaned in toward Hansen, anger lighting his features. "And how, exactly, did a terrorist organization plant a cell underneath what is supposed to be our best fortress of defense?"

Hansen felt his mouth go dry. "We're investigating that, sir, I assure you."

"You'd better do more than investigate, Mr. Hansen. And how in the hell are you planning to get at them without blowing the entire building apart?"

"We're working very closely with the OSI on that, sir..."

* * *

Russ pulled Rudy into an alcove, excitement in his voice. "We've caught a break, although in no thanks to the NSB who is not telling us a thing." 

"What are you talking about?"

"They're not going to bomb the hell out of the Shia Hizballah--"

"--They're not going to kill Jaime."

Rudy's knees felt weak and he swayed slightly in place. Russ took a hold of his arm to steady him.

"You okay, Rudy?"

The smaller man nodded and let out a long sigh of air, as if he'd been holding it for weeks. "I'll be fine, Russ, I'm just so relieved."

Russ squeezed Rudy's shoulder. "You'd better go tell Oscar, I'm sure it'll lessen his load considerably."

Rudy shook his head. "You go on and tell him, Russ, I've got some work to do."

Russ frowned as he watched Rudy walk slowly down the corridor, his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

* * *

Leaning his head back against his pillow, Oscar closed his eyes in relief. He felt tears squeeze out the sides of his eyes and begin to run down his face, and he quickly rubbed at his them with his hand, embarrassed. Russ pat him gently on the shoulder. 

"It's going to be okay, Oscar. We're working with Hansen, and I swear to you, I'll make sure we get Jaime out safely."

Goldman could only nod, and for a few minutes, Russ just left him to his thoughts, until he spoke again.

"I don't understand how it could have happened, Russ."

"No one does, Oscar, but I'll tell you, Hansen's butt's in a sling over it."

Oscar's brow furrowed. "There's so much about this that doesn't make sense. First, how in the hell did Hansen's team locate them? The Pentagon isn't exactly easy to penetrate. Russ...tell me, who knows about this?"

"At the moment, just you, me, the Secretary, Hansen, and his right hand man, Stone."

"Keep it that way."

"But Oscar--"

"--Russ, the only way the Shia Hizballah or anyone else could manage to get a cell planted underneath the Pentagon is with the help of someone on the inside. And not just anyone, but someone very high up. If we play this right, we'll not only save Jaime and dismantle the Shia Hizballah once and for all, but we'll also take down a traitor to our government. And Russ, I want to know how they found them..."

"Yeah, well, that could take some doing, Hansen's not being exactly cooperative..."

* * *

Callahan stood as soon as Goldman walked through the door. 

"Oh Mr. Goldman, it's so good to have you back." He smiled slightly, leaned down and placed an affectionate peck on his secretary's cheek, and Peggy noticed the pallor of his face. "Are you all right? Did Dr. Wells tell you that you could come back to the office?"

"Callahan, stop worrying. Rudy didn't say a thing."

Russ swallowed hard: little did Callahan know that Rudy's silence was because Oscar was refusing to allow the doctor access to him, much less have a conversation with the man.

Oscar nodded toward the door of his office. "He in there?"

"Yes sir, just like you asked." He started to ask another question, but she anticipated it. "And no one knows he's here."

"Good girl."

Oscar headed in, and stopped Russ at the door. "Sorry Russ, but this one's between me and him."

"Okay..."

Oscar closed the door softly and turned to face the man sitting on the couch, sipping a scotch. The man's eyes were on him, but he said nothing. Goldman walked over to the man and extended his hand.

"Yuri, it's good to see you."

The well-dressed Russian stood and nodded to Goldman, accepting the hand and shaking it earnestly. "And you, Oscar...although you look a little less than your usual self."

"You'll have to forgive me, Yuri, I've been a little under the weather."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I assume that this clandestine meeting has another purpose..."

"Yes," Oscar indicated that they should sit on the couch, then continued, "I need your help, Yuri."

The man seemed surprised. "My help?"

"Yes. I require some of your more...special abilities."

Yuri smiled. "Whom are we hacking?"

"It's not a whom, Yuri, but a what." The man stared at Goldman. "I want you to hack the mainframe computer at the Pentagon."

Yuri glared. "Have you lost your mind, Oscar?"

"Not yet, Yuri."

"Well you must have, because there is no way we can penetrate the defense, and even if we could..."

Oscar moved closer to the man. "Yuri, I'm not asking as a governmental favor, nor am I asking as the Director of the OSI."

Yuri frowned. "It's personal. That's even worse."

"Someone very close to me has been taken, Yuri, and I want to know who's responsible."

"And you think it's someone so high up in your own government that you need me to find him for you?" Goldman nodded, and the Russian took a long sip of his scotch. "You might not like the answer."

"No, I might not. But that doesn't preclude my paying you whatever fee you name."

Yuri waved him off. "This isn't about money, Oscar. If I'm caught, you won't be able to help me without implicating your duplicity."

"Yuri, have you ever known me not to stand behind the people who've given me their trust?"

"No, I haven't. But I've also never known you to betray your own government."

"Yuri, you owe me."

"I know that."

"Well then?"

"God hates a coward..."


	16. Chapter 16

Yuri sat behind the large terminal, typing furiously. Oscar paced behind him, and Russ stood near the door, watching Goldman, until he couldn't take it anymore. Quietly, Russ moved over to Oscar, leaning in toward him.

"Oscar, calm down. This can't be doing you any good."

Goldman looked at the younger man, but said nothing, and continued his labored trail back and forth across the small room. Russ sighed, and stepped into the man's path.

"Why don't I at least call Rudy, then he can--"

"No."

The sharpness of Goldman's tone left little doubt that if Russ disobeyed, there would be hell to pay. The younger man stared into the dark eyes for a long minute, contemplating his next move. Oscar glared hard at him for a moment, but the concern in his assistant's eyes softened him.

"Try not to worry so much, Russ."

"But I am worried. I'm worried about what you're doing in here with Yuri Cherkezov; I'm worried that whatever you're doing, you shouldn't be; and I'm very worried that you're going to drop dead right in front of me, Oscar. You're as white as a sheet."

Goldman leaned in closer to Russ. "You're going to have to trust me, Russ. Either that, or you can report me. But don't stand here and waste my time with misplaced sentimentality."

On target, the words struck the younger man like a blow. Russ fought to keep his composure, and to keep the moisture he felt stinging his eyes at bay. He swallowed hard trying to calm himself, and then the truth dawned on him.

"You pushed Rudy away, and now you're going to do it to me." Russ stared hard at his boss. "You're afraid something bad's going to go down, and you don't want anyone going down with you." Goldman looked away, and Russ pounced on him. "That's it, isn't it?"

Oscar put a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "Russ, the problem between Rudy and me has nothing to do with you, the OSI, or any imagined clandestine operation that you think I'm up to; it's personal, and that's that. And I'm sorry if I was harsh with you; I don't question your loyalty at all. I'm just a little tired." He smiled wanly at the young man. "Do me a favor and get me some coffee, will you?"

Russ looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Oscar watched the young man close the door behind him, and he turned to Cherkezov. "Yuri, have you found anything?"

"I'm afraid not, Oscar. If there is a double agent planted in the Pentagon, I'll be damned if I can find him."

Oscar sat dejectedly in a chair, clasping his hands together. "Well, that leaves us with few options."

"Few? I don't see any."

"Let's smoke him out."

"What?"

"Go back into the mainframe, only this time leave a trail."

"You want them to know that a terminal from the OSI was accessing them?"

Goldman nodded. "Only I want you to touch on very specific things. Nothing that an ordinary operator would find."

"Ah...only something the guilty party would be looking for."

Goldman nodded. "Exactly."

Yuri frowned slightly. "You know Oscar, the young man is right. You don't look very good."

"Never mind that. Just get back in there and fix it up. And Yuri, make sure that all trails lead to me."

Yuri shrugged. "It's your party, Oscar. Just be sure to leave me off the guest list if it ever comes down."

"You have my word."

* * *

Jaime paced the length of her steel cell yet again. She had spent the better part of two days trying to isolate the sounds her bionic ear kept picking up, but she couldn't place them. If she didn't know better, it reminded her of the Air Force base back in Ojai; but that simply didn't make sense. She wondered if Oscar was trying to--but then she remembered. Jaime ran a hand through her hair as the awful sensation of loss tried to creep back into her psyche. There would be time to deal with his death; but that time was not now. If she was to have any chance at escape, she knew it was up to her, and the last thing she could do was allow herself to feel any of the emotions that wanted to have their way with her; he would have expected nothing less.

The lock in the door clicked and momentarily the door to her cell opened. A man she had never seen before stood there with his hands on his hips, staring at her. Jaime glared back at him. If he wanted a conversation, he was going to have to initiate it. He didn't look like any of the other men she'd seen. He was much older with a full head of white hair, and very tall. He stood unusually straight, had a deep tan, and shockingly blue eyes. There was something stiff about his demeanor, but Jaime couldn't put her finger on it. Finally he took a few steps into the cell, closing the door behind him.

"They tell me you're quite amazing."

His voice held the air of command, and his English was native, South Dakota or so Jaime thought. She remained silent.

"Cat got your tongue, Miss Sommers?" He waited, but still she said nothing. He moved a little closer, remembering the warning he received about keeping his distance from her. "I would think after two days with no one to talk to, and only stale bread and water to sustain you, you'd be a little more pliable."

"You thought wrong."

"So I see."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Jaime broke the silence.

"Why are you here?"

"To inspect the goods personally, of course. Did you think it was out of mere curiosity?"

"Since I don't know who you are, nor what you have to do with this, I couldn't know, could I?"

"But you've surmised I'm not with our friends upstairs."

"Well that one wasn't too difficult, now was it? South Dakota doesn't sound anything like the other side of the world."

He smiled at her. "You're everything I've heard about you, and more."

"How nice for you."

He inched a little closer toward her, fascinated by her. "You're not the least bit frightened are you?"

She smiled at him. "I'd be stupid if I didn't feel fear, Mr...?"

He laughed. "You may call me Howard, Miss Sommers, I think we're way past formalities. You were saying?"

"I might feel fear, Howard, but I am not ruled by it."

"No wonder all my friends upstairs dislike you so strongly. You represent everything they abhor in a woman."

She moved a little closer. If an opportunity presented itself, she would take it.

"But you don't dislike it, do you, Howard?"

"On the contrary, Miss Sommers, I find you quite...charming."

She smiled and inched closer still. "Call me Jaime..."

"All right, Jaime."

And Sommers figured she was close enough. She made a move toward him, springing with bionic power at his midsection, knocking him to the ground. As she stood to grab him, he pulled a gun from under his jacket, but Jaime was already in motion. He fired, hitting her in the shoulder. Jaime grabbed her right side, as the force of the .45 ACP slammed her backward and down to the floor. Howard stood and walked toward her, the gun leveled at her head. She recognized the insignia on the pistol; it was something she had seen many times at Edwards AFB. She looked up at him again, but knew she had never seen him before.

"You're more dangerous than I thought, but at least I didn't hit any of the important parts in my own defense. It would have damaged the sale."

"Don't count your money yet..."

He laughed. "Well, I'll lose a little bit for the bullet hole, but dead or alive, Jaime, there will still be a buyer, don't you doubt that."

Holding the gun on her, Howard backed up toward the door. He pounded on it, and a moment later, it opened. He ducked behind it, and it slammed home, the lock clicking once more. Jaime lie still for a long while, holding her shoulder, the blood continuing to flow. Sommers couldn't help but think that if she were lucky, she'd just bleed to death...

* * *

Russ walked in to Goldman's office to find his boss stretched out on the couch, asleep. Not wanting to wake him, the young man turned around and headed back toward the door. The deep voice called to him, although it was slightly groggy.

"Russ...what is it?"

The younger man walked back to the couch, a piece of paper in his hands. "Well, good news, bad news."

"I'm too tired for riddles, Russ, just tell me."

"The good news is that I know how the NSB found them. The bad news is that a few years ago, Hansen got the Secretary to authorize a homing implant in Jaime's arm."

Oscar sat straight up, anger coloring his face. "What?"

"Yeah, I've got a copy of the authorization right here."

Goldman snatched the paper from the young man's hands and read through it. He stood up, tossing the paper back to Russ, and headed toward his desk. Angrily he picked up the phone, preparing to dial a number. Russ moved to him and pulled the phone from his hands, returning it to the receiver.

"Oscar, calm down. The last thing we need right now is for you to do something rash."

"The Secretary knows damned good and well how I feel about things like this, and he knows I'd never go along with it. I cannot sanction treating a loyal, dedicated woman like Jaime as if she were nothing more than government property. I wonder how in the hell Hansen got him to do it."

"The real question is why Rudy went along with it..."

Goldman looked at him sharply. "Rudy?"

"Well yeah Oscar, do you know anyone else who would be digging around in Jaime's bionic arm?"

Goldman felt as if he had been struck hard in the gut. Worn out, Oscar slowly sank into his desk chair. He was already angry with Rudy regarding the attitude the man had taken toward trying to rescue Jaime; but he had never imagined that his friend of so many years would do anything this deceitful. After a long moment, he looked up at the young man standing near.

"Russ, I want you to do something for me."

"Anything, Oscar."

"I want you to give me about fifteen minutes, and then I want you to terminate Dr. Wells' employment with the OSI." The young man stared blankly at his boss. "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, I just...are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Oscar stood. "Yes Russ, I'm sure. If he's been dishonest about this, God only knows about how many other things." Goldman shook his head sadly. "What I don't understand is how I could have misjudged him so completely for so long." He looked at Russ, the vulnerability plain in the depths of his eyes. "I would have trusted him with my life, and I did trust him with the lives of two people who mean more to me than--" His emotion choked off any further comment, and Oscar walked to the door. He opened it and turned back to his assistant once more. "This one's going to hurt, Russ. It's going to hurt us all for a long time to come."


	17. Chapter 17

Rudy couldn't concentrate. Oscar not only asked for another doctor, but also barred Wells from his office and any news of Jaime. He felt dreadful about what had happened between them, but Oscar had always allowed his affections to rule him where people were concerned, especially those close to him; it's what separated him from all the government bureaucrats who could be so very cold. Rudy couldn't find it in his heart to blame the man, and instead, loved him more. But being shut out hurt. It hurt on a level that the doctor had almost forgotten existed within him.

He heard the sound of the door to his lab softly whooshing shut, followed by familiar footsteps on the linoleum floor. He turned, wondering what had caused the change of heart, but saw the dark look on Goldman's face and knew whatever was coming, wasn't going to be pleasant.

Oscar stopped about a foot from Rudy's chair, and tossed the authorization for the implant at him. "How could you?"

"What in the hell are you--"

Goldman pointed at the paper. "--There's no point in denial, it's right there in black and white, and it's going to cost you, Rudy. It's going to cost you dearly. But before you're escorted from the building, I want to know why you did it. I trusted you, Rudy. I trusted you with everything that was precious to me, and you betrayed me. Worse than that, you betrayed Jaime. Do you have any idea how much she loves you? Do you even give a damn?"

Wells felt blindsided by the accusations, and the onslaught of emotion, both Oscar's and his own. Numbly he looked down at the paper and blinked at the words and the signatures he found there. He glanced back up at Goldman.

"Oscar, I don't know anything about this..."

Goldman snatched the paper away with anger. "And I'm supposed to believe that a bionic surgery was outsourced like some kind of car pool?" His voice began to roar with fury, "You're the only one with clearance for this, Rudy, the only one. I want to know why."

Rudy shrugged, defeated. "I told you, I don't know anything about an implant authorization." He struggled to keep his emotions from bubbling up. "I would never do anything like this to Jaime, or to you Oscar, and I can't believe that you think me capable of it."

And for the first time since Sam's death, Oscar felt nothing but blind rage. He wanted to strike out at the man sitting before him; the man he had called his friend. He wanted to inflict pain and retribution. But the searing ache he felt in his chest kept him motionless.

Goldman's voice was tight, "I can't ignore the facts."

Rudy took the authorization from Goldman once again and looked at the dates. A slight frown creased his brow, and he walked over to his desk, pulling out his five-year calendar. He quickly leafed through it, stopped on a page, read it and nodded to himself. He brought the book to Oscar, and pointed to the dates in question.

"I was gone for two weeks during this period, Oscar, and as you can see on the lab log, Jaime had some cosmetic work done to her bionic arm following a minor traffic accident. The NSB sent over a Dr. Philip Wiley, who had both the basics in bionics and high enough clearance to work on her. Hansen must have waited until I had a vacation planned, then got the Secretary on board, knowing he'd be able to work out the rest of the details to meet his end game." Rudy looked hard into Goldman's eyes. "He knew I'd never agree to such a thing, and he sure as hell knew he wouldn't get anywhere with you."

Oscar felt a knot tightening in the pit of his stomach. "Rudy...my God, Rudy... I don't know what to say. I've been so awful to you." The dark eyes looked into the chocolate brown. "I wouldn't blame you if you never spoke to me again after the things I said."

Rudy shook his head. "I know you, Oscar. You let your emotions run away with that one; and I know that it hurt you far more than it did me."

Goldman's voice was soft, "But I hurt you, Rudy, and you'll never know how truly sorry I am for that. I was just so--"

Oscar grabbed his chest in pain, and Rudy took hold of his arms, gently guiding him into a chair. Wells loosened his tie and shirt, and felt his pulse; it was thready and racing. He brushed a soft hand across Goldman's brow.

"Breathe easy, Oscar, just relax for me."

Wells went to a drawer and pulled out a stethoscope. He listened to Oscar's heart and frowned. He rested a soft hand on Goldman's shoulder to maintain physical contact with him, and calmly reached for the phone. The door to the lab burst open, and Russ entered followed by several armed guards. It didn't take much for Rudy to deduce what they were there to do. He beat Russ to the punch.

"Russ, we need an ambulance."

"What in the... Oscar!" He looked up at Rudy, a slightly accusatory countenance upon his face. "What in the hell happened?"

"He's having a heart attack, now please just do as I say and call for an ambulance." The young man glowered, and Rudy held up a hand. "Look, you can throw me out as soon as we get Oscar to a hospital and make sure he's stable, but we need to take care of him first."

Russ turned to one of the other men. "Call. Go, hurry..."

He looked down at his boss and felt panic.

Rudy pat him on the arm. "We'll get him there, we'll take of him."

Russ jerked away from Rudy. "I don't think he wants you taking care of him."

Oscar grimaced in distress, and reached for Wells, his teeth clenched in pain. "Rudy..."

Wells knelt next to the chair and brushed a soothing hand across Goldman's brow. "Shh, shh, shh...ambulance is on the way, Oscar, and in the meantime, I'm going to give you something that'll slow your heart down a little, then something for the pain." He turned to Russ. "Take his hand."

The younger man did as he was told, and watched as Rudy quickly went to a cabinet and pulled out a syringe and two small bottles. He walked back over to Oscar and filled the syringe with one of the liquids. He rolled up Goldman's sleeve and injected the fluid into the vein of his arm, then repeated the procedure with the other one. Wells set the syringe down and pulled a chair next to Oscar, sitting down with him.

Goldman's voice was weak and filled with pain, "Rudy...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

Wells rubbed a soothing hand on Oscar's chest. "I know that, and I don't want you to think about it anymore, Oscar. Save your strength."

"Forgive me, Rudy... please."

Wells leaned his head close to Oscar's. "There's nothing to forgive. How could I be angry with you for loving so deeply? Now calm down and try and relax."

"Jaime. Rudy, we've got to get her."

"We will. The next time you open your eyes, she'll be here."

"Promise?"

"You have my word."

"Then it's gold..."

Allowing the meds Rudy pumped into him to take effect, Oscar closed his eyes. Russ looked at Rudy harshly.

"What if we can't get to her?"

"We'd better find a way, Russ, because I just gave the man my word, and I'm not going to disappoint him."


	18. Chapter 18

Russ entered the outer office to find Callahan nervously rearranging files.

"Callahan, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I've got a situation and I'm not sure how to handle it." Russ nodded at her and she continued. "You and Rudy told me to keep it quiet that Oscar isn't here, which I've been doing."

When she hesitated, Russ prompted her. "But?"

"Well some Air Force Colonel keeps calling, insisting that it's very urgent that he speak with Oscar."

"What's the guy's name?"

"Howard Bradley. Colonel Howard Bradley."

Russ shook his head. "I've never heard of him. Just tell him that Oscar can't be reached right now, and refer him over to Hansen's office at the NSB."

"Mr. Hansen won't like it."

Russ smiled. "Exactly, Callahan."

She smiled back at him as he headed for the door. "It never made sense to me anyway..."

Russ turned back around to look at her. "What didn't?"

"The Colonel in charge of security at the Pentagon calling for Oscar...it sounds more like an NSB thing anyway, doesn't it?"

Russ was suddenly more interested. "He's in charge of security at the Pentagon?"

"That's what he said, yes."

"Hmmm, on second thought, Callahan, I'm going to be in Oscar's office, when this guy calls again, I want you to put him through."

Callahan looked confused, but agreed, "Okay." She swallowed hard. "Russ?'

"Yeah?"

"How is Oscar?"

Russ shook his head as he opened the door to the inner office. "Not so good, Peggy. But Rudy's with him, so I'm sure if there's any change, we'll be the first to know."

She watched him walk into the office and close the door, and she wondered if it was a foreshadowing of things to come. Peggy shrugged it off; she couldn't afford to think that way, any more than she could help missing Oscar.

* * *

"I'm telling you Hansen, this is our guy." 

"Some guy from the Pentagon calls, and you're certain he's the one who's masterminded all of this?"

"Look, Oscar was working on trapping the inside man at the Pentagon, and this is the guy who took the bait."

"And I suppose the man just admitted all of it to you, Oscar Goldman's assistant?"

Russ tried to keep the anger out of his voice. "He doesn't know I'm Oscar's assistant."

"Well who in the hell does he think you are?"

"Oscar."

Hansen leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his forehead. "So just why did he say he was calling?"

"He said there was a problem in the computer system at the Pentagon."

"So why didn't he call the NSB?"

"That's what I asked, and he said it was because the problem was stemming from an OSI terminal, and that the message was tagged as originating from me -- well, Oscar."

"And?"

"He said he wants to come by here and check out the system personally."

"When?"

"Tonight, nine o'clock."

"After hours. That's not surprising." Russ stared at Hansen, so the man continued, "Whatever he's planning on doing, it's not gonna be good for your health..." 


	19. Chapter 19

Jaime's shoulder felt like it was on fire, and yet it wasn't life-threatening. The bullet had sailed clean through the fleshy part of her right shoulder, above the bionic attachment, and while it was painful, she figured she'd be okay. Her mind drifted back to the man who called himself Howard. There was no question that he was military, but was he retired, dishonorably discharged, or some kind of mercenary? She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sounds her bionic ear picked up from far above her cell, and suddenly it made sense. Howard wasn't retired, thrown out nor a wannabe; he was still serving. And worse than that, the familiar noises were such because she had to be on a military base - or under it.

Jaime's face felt hot with anger. It was bad enough to think that terrorists had infiltrated a U.S. military base, but to know that an officer - and Jaime understood he had to be one with clout to make this so - had assisted them in procuring classified secrets; in making a deal with a hostile foreign government to sell those secrets; and killing a high-ranking government official who meant more to her than anyone could know, was unbearable. She felt the flood of tears in her eyes, and she slammed them shut against the emotions that were trying to overwhelm her. The last thing she wanted to do was give the animals holding her any satisfaction from the vile acts they had perpetrated, especially ending the life of Oscar Goldman. Jaime had to find a way to thwart what they were about to do, not only for herself, but more importantly for Oscar; it would be the last thing she would ever be able to do for him.

And then it came to her: the secret of bionics wasn't in the neural nets, connections, limbs, and electronics that had become such a part of her. No, it was in the ability to power them; it was in the nuclear power pack. If she could remove it, and destroy it beyond recognition, then in the end she would win, and in some way, so would Oscar. Jaime took a calming breath. Such an action also meant her own demise, but considering her predicament, she was dead already; at this point there was only the how of her death, not the fact of it. And Jaime Sommers would take control of how and when, and in the process screw the terrorists out of any sale to a foreign government. Her parts would be worthless without the ability to power them; and if no one else had figured out how to use nuclear power in bionics yet, then it was doubtful they'd figure it out from her body parts _without_ the power pack.

She smiled slightly as she opened her eyes: she would be dead, but she was willing to bet that everyone involved in this would be too, and on some level, that was good enough for her. She moved herself over to the steel cot in the room, and tried lifting it with her left arm while lying on her stomach on the floor. It was difficult, but she knew she could do it. With her bionic arm, she pulled a steel slat out from the bottom, and checked to see which end had the sharper edge. Jaime positioned herself close to the heaviest end of the cot's leg and tore at her right sleeve. Using the sharp edge of the slat, she cut into her upper right arm, revealing the small panel beneath. With a slow breath for courage, Jaime removed the power pack with her left hand, immediately feeling the drain from her body. Almost paralyzed, Jaime used her real arm to lift the steel cot's leg up an inch or so, and slide the power pack underneath it. With all her might, she lifted the leg once again, and slammed it on top of the tiny power unit. After several repeats, the nuclear power pack was in thousands of pieces, and worthless to anyone trying to garner its secrets.

With a smile on her face, Jaime lay her head on her left arm, shivering from cold. She knew she had only to wait about an hour, and without the tiny power pack, death would come. Her only regret was that she wouldn't witness the outcome of her sacrifice, but still, there was a victory. All she needed to do now was close her eyes and sleep the slumber of endless dreams.


	20. Chapter 20

Russ smiled and held out his hand as Colonel Howard Bradley entered the computer lab on the basement level of the OSI building. Bradley shook the extended hand and returned the friendly smile.

"Mr. Goldman, I presume?"

"That's right." Russ indicated a terminal to his left. "I believe this might be the pesky piece of equipment you're looking for, although I have to say, Colonel, I'm quite surprised at such personal attention from such an important Pentagon man."

Bradley smiled easily. "No trouble, Mr. Goldman, with things like this, I usually like to tend to them personally." He scanned the room to make sure it was just the two of them. "I appreciate your time, I mean, I know it's late for you bureaucrat types..."

"It's never too late to help out the Pentagon, Colonel Bradley."

"I suppose not."

Bradley sat down at the terminal, and while his back was to Russ, he pulled out a pistol with a silencer from under his jacket. After a moment, he whirled around in the chair, the gun leveled at Mark Russell's chest.

"I'd like to say thanks, Mr. Goldman, for making yourself available for this, you've made my job a lot easier. You should have stayed out of the Pentagon mainframe. My people have been watching it for months."

Stalling for time, Russ asked the inevitable, "Your people? Don't you mean the members of the Shia Hizballah?"

"It's too bad you became so preoccupied with finding Jaime Sommers." Off a concerned look, Bradley continued, "You two must be close."

Russ frowned. "Why do you say that? I'd search for any lost agent."

"Yes, but I doubt many of your agents would break down in tears if they were told you were dead."

"You told her what?"

"That we killed you, Goldman. It's made her much more pliable. And well, at least now, it's going to be true."

Without waiting another moment, Bradley fired the gun, sending Russ flying back against the wall. A moment later his body slid unceremoniously to the floor. Bradley put the gun back under his jacket and straightened his uniform as if preparing for inspection.

"Thanks for your help, Goldman, couldn't have wrapped this up without you."

And in a crisp military about face, Colonel Howard Bradley turned and left the room.


	21. Chapter 21

As soon as Bradley closed the door to Goldman's office, Jack Hansen and several NSB agents appeared, guns drawn.

"That's far enough, Colonel Bradley." Bradley started to slide his hands into his pockets and Hansen said, "Keep your hands where I can see them. We haven't had a chance to meet since you took over the security at the Pentagon, but I'm Jack Hansen, Director of the NSB."

"Do you always introduce yourself this way, Hansen?"

"No. For someone like you, I usually shoot first and talk later." Hansen nodded to an aide. "Johnson, frisk him."

"You can't do this to me."

"In cases of suspected treason, I am authorized by the Secretary of State to use whatever force or action I deem necessary. Frisk him, Johnson."

Johnson moved over to Bradley and quickly relieved him of the gun under his jacket, checking to be sure he had no other weapons. The door behind Bradley opened, and Russ stepped out, removing the bullet proof vest from underneath his shirt.

"You all right, Russ?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Russ looked at Bradley. "For the head of security at the Pentagon, you aren't very thorough."

Bradley said nothing, and Hansen stepped closer, holstering his weapon.

"Cat got your tongue, Bradley?" The man remained silent, so Hansen continued, "Yeah, I guess I'd be a little quiet too if I was about to face charges of treason against my country." He looked hard at the man. "You're a disgrace to that uniform, and everything it stands for; if I have my way, you'll get the maximum punishment, Bradley."

Russ closed in on the man. "Where's Jaime Sommers? We know you have her, where is she?" Bradley ignored Russ, who in anger, then grabbed him by the lapels. "Where the hell is she?"

Hansen gently took Russ' hands away from the man. "Take it easy, Russ. That's not going to do any good with this guy."

The stress and emotion was beginning to show in Russ' voice, "We've got to find her. We've got to find her now."

The usually brusque Hansen laid a soft hand on Russ' shoulder, and leaned in to speak so that only Russ could hear. "Look, I know how sick Goldman is, and I understand what you're trying to do, but I don't think Goldman would much appreciate my letting you get yourself into trouble."

The younger man looked into his face, his eyes misting over slightly. "Hansen..." Russ had to swallow the emotion in his throat down. "It's worse than anyone's been told. Rudy isn't sure if Oscar's going to pull through this... We promised him that we'd get her back."

The older agent pat the young man's shoulder, and smiled gently. "Then I guess it's time for you to learn how you get through to guys like this one..." Hansen looked around at the NSB agents in the room. "Okay guys, wait outside. It's just me, Bradley and Russ here. Get going..."

Without a word, the agents quietly exited the room, taking up positions a little further down the hall, away from the glass window and door. Russ frowned, trying to figure out what Hansen was going to do, and to his shock, the man pulled his gun, and pointed it straight out at Bradley.

The edge in Bradley's voice was unmistakable, "Hey...what do you think you're doing?"

Hansen's timbre matched his aggressive stance. "You're a tough guy, and you're not going to talk, so I'm going to do what I deem necessary in a case of treason." Hansen lowered the gun slightly toward Bradley's knees. "I'm going to shoot one piece of you for every minute that you make us stand here and wait for you to tell us where Jaime Sommers is."

"You can't do this. I'm a U.S. Army colonel--"

"--I don't know who you are, or how you did this, but the one thing that I'm sure of now, is that you're not Colonel Howard Bradley."

The man stared at Hansen, but remained silent.

"Hansen? What are you talking about?"

Hansen's eyes remained on Bradley, but he answered Russ. "He may look like him and talk like him, but he isn't Colonel Bradley."

"But how? He had to have passed the fingerprint and corneal recognition to be in charge of security at the Pentagon."

"Yes, which is why this is incredibly impressive. But think about it, Russ, if this was Bradley, even though he might never have met me, or Oscar, he would have known what we look like. This impostor slipped up. He didn't do all of his homework." Hansen cocked the gun. "What do you say, mister? Feel like talking, or should I just shoot out one of your kneecaps?"

The man growled, "You wouldn't dare."

Hansen smiled the coldest most calculating smile Russ had ever seen, and his mouth went dry.

Jack's voice was a cold as his face, "Are you sure?"

The man's resolve began to weaken. "All right...I'm not Howard Bradley."

"Tell me something I don't already know."

The man looked hard at Hansen. "I can't tell you where she is; if I do they'll kill me."

"Mister, I'm gonna kill you if you don't."

Russ couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice, "Hansen, you can't!"

"Stay out of this, Russ." His eyes never left the man shrinking before him. "Well? Where's Jaime Sommers?"

"What kind of deal do I get if I tell you?"

"You get to stay alive for your trial."

"That's not a deal."

"It's better than the alternative."

The man looked at the gun barrel, and decided to save his own skin. "The Pentagon. Jaime Sommers is at the Pentagon."

"What?"

"There's a level beneath the bunker. Bookcase in my office opens up, there's a stairway leading all the way down to it from there."

Hansen's teeth clenched together in anger. "How clever." He holstered his weapon and stuck his head out the glass doors. "Johnson, come get this piece of garbage outta my sight."

Johnson and the rest of Hansen's men cleared the room taking the man who had called himself Bradley with them. Russ stared at Jack Hansen, not quite believing what he had seen.

"Would you have shot him?"

Hansen looked at the young man. "I've never had to shoot anybody in this game yet, Russ."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Yes, Russ, I think I did. Now come on, let's go get your missing agent."

* * *

Less than fifteen minutes later, Pentagon security, and agents of the NSB, along with Russ and Hansen stormed the level below the bunker. The few men who were there provided little resistance, and as quickly as they could, they searched room by room for Jaime. Russ was just coming from a room when he heard Hansen's agitated voice. 

"Russ! Russ, in here!"

Russ took off at a run down the hallway, and in through the open door to the room at the end. He knelt next to Jaime, and tried to shake her.

"Jaime? Jaime, it's Russ. Can you hear me?"

But she was unconscious. Hansen spotted the smashed power pack on the floor.

"Hey, what's this?"

Russ looked over at the smashed pieces, spotted the sharp-edged metal slat, and grabbed Jaime's right arm, turning it over. The cut in the synthetic skin told him everything he needed to know.

"Oh my God, Hansen, her nuclear power pack..."

"What?"

"She took out her power pack and smashed it."

"I don't understand."

"We've got to get her to Rudy, and right now. I don't know how long it's been out, but I do know that she can't survive that long without it."

"Where's Rudy now?"

"With Oscar I'm sure, at Bethesda."

Hansen pulled out his radio, pressing on the button. "This is Hansen to all units. Code Delta, Beta, Alpha. I need a military helicopter on the Pentagon pad immediately. Clear all air space from the Pentagon to Bethesda." Hansen turned to the officer standing nearby. "Major, we need a stretcher to get her up to the pad."

"We've got one standing by, sir, with the men to move quickly."

"Thank you." He pat Russ on the arm. "Don't worry, we'll get her there."

"Yeah, but will it be in time?"


	22. Chapter 22

Her eyes were heavy and fought opening, but slowly she forced her lids upward, and after a few seconds, her vision focused on the man sitting at the edge of her bed. He smiled at her.

"Welcome back, Jaime."

She felt tears sting her eyes, and she reached her arms around his neck. "Oh Rudy..."

Wells held her tightly against him, gently rubbing her back. "It's all right, Jaime, you're going to be just fine." She shook slightly, and he tightened the embrace. "You're okay..."

"How did I get here?"

He pulled away from her, gently lowering her back to her pillows. "Russ and Hansen found you." He looked down for a second, then stared into her eyes. "Russ said it looked like you pulled your own power pack out and smashed it." She nodded and looked away. He brushed his fingers against her cheek. "You must have had a good reason..."

Tears filled her eyes again when she looked into the depths of chocolate brown. "It was the only thing I could think of to do, Rudy. They were going to sell me to the highest bidder, and we both know what would have happened from there."

He brushed her hair back out of her face. "And you figured that without the power pack, they'd never figure out how to successfully recreate a cyborg..."

She nodded. "Something like that."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek gently. "Sounds like a last-ditch move to me..."

"I was pretty desperate, Rudy." Her voice choked with a sob then, "It was the last thing I could do for Oscar, and I figured I owed both of you at least that..."

"Last thing you could do...? Jaime, what are you talking about?"

Tears streamed down her face. "They killed him, Rudy. Oscar's dead..."

She wrapped her arms around him again, sobbing into his neck. Rudy pat her back tenderly.

"Shh, Jaime, Oscar's not dead. They didn't kill him..."

She pulled away to look into his eyes. "But they told me--"

"--I don't care what they told you. They didn't kill him..."

Jaime's face dissolved into a smile. "Where is he? Oh Rudy, get him in here!" The sullen look on the doctor's face caused Jaime's heart to flutter. "Rudy? What is it?"

He held her hands tightly in his. "He's alive, Jaime, but he's in pretty bad shape."

"Then they did shoot him."

"No. It's his heart. The stress of this whole thing has just been too much for him."

"Rudy, can I see him, please?"

Wells nodded. "I think it might be the best thing for him."

* * *

Rudy pushed Jaime's wheelchair through the door, and stopped it near the bed. Gently he helped her out of the chair, sitting her on the edge of Oscar's bed. Rudy stood near the headboard, carefully checking Oscar's pulse and his pupil response. Satisfied that his patient was stable, he put a caring hand on Goldman's shoulder. 

"Oscar? Hey, Oscar..."

Goldman's eyelids fluttered, and he looked up at Rudy, then at Jaime. And a smile lit his pale lips as he reached his hand out to her. Jaime clasped it tightly in hers.

"Hiya babe..."

"Hi babe, yourself." She smiled at him. "Heard you've been a mess without me..."

He chuckled slightly, the heavy meds causing his reactions to be slow and slightly sluggish. "Yeah. Nothing went along too smoothly..." He glanced at Wells. "Did it, Rudy?"

Wells pat his friend's shoulder. "No. You were a pretty tough customer there for awhile."

Jaime leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Everything's going to be okay now, Oscar. You just concentrate on getting well, all right?"

He nodded, worn out from the effort. Rudy put a hand on her shoulder.

"I think we'd better let him rest, Jaime."

"Okay." She kissed Oscar's lips warmly. "Get some sleep, and I'll see you later."

Impending slumber filtered into his voice, "Okay, babe..."

Rudy helped her back into the wheelchair, and then leaned over Oscar, giving him another cursory check. He brushed a hand over his friend's brow.

"How's the pain, Oscar?"

"Hurts a little, Rudy."

Wells nodded, and reached into his lab coat, extracting a clean syringe and small bottle of morphine. He loaded a little into the syringe, and injected it into Goldman's arm, gently rubbing the skin where the needle pricked him.

"That's gonna help. You go back to sleep now, Oscar. You need a lot of rest."

Goldman grabbed Rudy's hand as the doctor started away. Frowning Wells held it, returning the pressure.

"What is it, Oscar?"

"Thanks, Rudy. Thanks for keeping your word to me."

Rudy nodded, and squeezed the hand in his before letting go. "I want you to rest now."

He rubbed Oscar's shoulder lightly until Goldman's eyes closed and his breathing evened out a little. Then quietly he pushed Jaime's chair back out of the room, closing the door behind them.

"Rudy?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"What was Oscar talking about?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"About keeping your word to him. What was he talking about?"

"Oh, that."

"Yes, Dr. Wells, _that._"

"It was nothing, Jaime."

"Sure sounded like something."

"Maybe your doctor should check your bionic ear..."

"Rudy!"

He stopped pushing the chair, and leaned over her, putting his hands on both of the armrests. "Now you listen to me, young lady, there are some things that are just between me and Oscar."

"And this is one of them, huh?"

"Yes." He gently touched the end of her nose with his finger. "And that's enough out of you for one day, you need some rest too."

He began pushing her down the hall once again.

"Is he going to be all right, Rudy?"

"I think he will now, Jaime. I certainly think he will now."

The End


End file.
